The Invisible Man
by Kristen Elizabeth
Summary: Gil Grissom embraced invisibility, until the day another invisible man entered his life. Eventual GSR
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I don't know what's up with this crazy writing kick I'm on, but I'm riding it like...well...fill in your own similie. And feel free to make it dirty. Thanks for continuing to read my stuff;)

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Prologue

The long stretch of dark time between midnight and five a.m., affectionately known around Desert Palm Hospital as "Rush Hour," was interrupted one early Saturday morning when a frantic man pulled up to the ER entrance in his black Denali.

"We need some help over here," he yelled to the nurses who stood out front, sharing a cigarette. He yanked open the passenger's side door to reveal a very pregnant woman, huffing and puffing, obviously well into her labor.

"How far along is she?" one of the nurses shouted at the man as the woman was helped into a wheelchair.

"Um…"

The woman replied through gritted teeth. "Eight months. Thirty-two weeks."

"And how long have the contractions been coming?" This time the nurse asked the woman directly.

"Several hours."

The man suddenly found himself on the receiving end of several very harsh looks. "Why haven't you brought her in until now?"

He shook his head, his blue eyes wide. "I didn't know. She didn't tell me."

"Let's get her up to OB."

In the frantic shuffle, the man was pushed aside. He could only watch as the dark-haired woman was wheeled into the ER.

"Sir?" One of the nurses tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "We need the patient's name and information."

He kept staring down the hall she'd been taken. "Yes. Sure. Um…her name is Sara Sidle." He let out a ragged breath. "Please take care of her. And the baby."

The young woman cleared her throat. "And your name, sir?"

"Gil Grissom."

"Okay. If you'll just fill this out, Mr. Grissom and sign here..." She held out her clipboard and a pen. But when he didn't take it, she frowned. "Sir, I'm sorry, but we really need these papers in order to help your…um…partner and your baby."

He shook his head. "You don't understand. I'm not the father."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's reading this and having faith, even after that prologue;)

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

It is better to break one's heart than to do nothing with it.  
--Margaret Kennedy

* * *

_Ten months earlier_

"Is it just me or are we getting a lot more of these cases lately?"

Sara patted the roof of the social worker's car. The little girl in the backseat was already asleep, clinging to the one ragged teddy bear she'd managed to carry from her family's trailer before it succumbed to flame and ash. The car drove off, followed a moment later by the police cruisers carrying her parents, under arrest for numerous charges, not the least of which would be child abuse, physical and, Sara suspected, sexual.

Only when they were left to the smoking remnants of the trailer did Sara answer Greg's question. "It's not just you."

He sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Want me to take the perimeter?"

Something caught Sara's eye and she shook her head. "No. Take the interior. You need the experience. Come get me if you run into anything you don't know how to handle."

"You got it." He did everything but skip off, eager to get started.

She was halfway through a debate with herself about what to do next when she realized that the thing which had caught her eye was heading her way. Twenty seconds was all she had to get her thoughts in order. And then, there he was.

"Hi, Sara."

The one thing she was able to decide in that short amount of time was that she would take the high road. Bygones were bygones, and there was enough water under the bridge for her to be amiable. "Hi, Hank."

To his credit, he appeared massively uncomfortable. "Well, you said you'd see me around. Just took a long time, didn't it? Two years…"

"Three."

Hank nodded. "Yeah. Three." He paused. "How are you, Sara?"

What could she say about her life since they'd parted ways? Survived a lab explosion, held hostage by an insane rapist, busted for a DUI, and forced to come to term with the fact that her love for her boss wasn't entirely one-sided, but was completely fruitless? Not exactly great conversation starters. "I'm good," she said instead. "Really good."

"You look good. I like your hair…the layer thing."

She barely heard the compliment. His left hand was unadorned by a wedding band. "How's Elaine?"

"Ah…Elaine and I broke up. Several years ago." Hank shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Right after you and I…"

"She found out?" He inclined his head. "How?"

Hank looked away for a few seconds. "Did you ever wonder what happened to that polka-dotted bra you had?"

"I figured the laundry room gnomes at my complex took it." She caught his look and winced. "Guess not."

"Nope." Another moment passed. "Tough case, isn't it?"

Sara blinked at the sudden change in subject. "Always is where children are concerned. You were first on the scene. The little girl…"

"Checked her out for smoke inhalation," Hank said, gravely. "I noticed some…um…" He stopped short. "I'm sorry…I…"

"It's okay." She found herself almost reaching out for him. Old habits died very hard, apparently. "Just tell me so we can help her."

"Semen," he blurted out. "Fresh stains on her nightgown." His hands curled up into fists. "Are they taking her for an exam?"

"Yeah." Sara narrowed her eyes. "But we've got the bastard. He won't be allowed near her ever again."

"I was a bastard." Again, the subject change left her spinning for control. "I've thought about writing you a letter or something…but I never did. It didn't seem right. Figured I needed to work up the guts to apologize to your face." Hank looked her straight in the eye. "I'm sorry, Sara."

She cleared her throat. "I owe you an apology, too."

"No, Sara…"

"As much as you used me, I used you." Sara paused. "Although you were worse about it, just so you know."

He smiled. "I know."

Sara was suddenly very aware of the fact that they were surrounded by cops, firemen and paramedics, their colleagues who, if they had been around for any length of time, were bound to know something of their history. "I should get to work. It was…good to see you again, Hank."

"You, too." She'd just started to walk away when he called her back. "Sara, would you like to have dinner with me some night?"

Turning around, she gave him the most incredulous look she could ever remember conjuring. "Are you kidding?"

"You have absolutely no reason to trust me. But if you're not seeing someone right now…" He shrugged. "We had fun together, didn't we?"

"Up until I saw a picture of you on vacation with your real girlfriend," she shot back.

"I think that if I had met you first, there wouldn't have been an Elaine."

Sara stared at him until her eyes burned from lack of blinking. "Make sure you include the semen stain in your report," she said, curtly. "Have a nice night."

* * *

Several days later, Sara sat down to review the case with her supervisor, as required by the new lab policies. No one disputed the fact that it was a pain, but for Sara, it was a semi-weekly excuse to have Grissom's attention focused solely on her. There was a definite pathetic quality to that, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care.

"The results of the SAE kit?"

"Indicated long-term sexual abuse." Sara leaned across his desk to hand him the file. "She's six."

Grissom glanced over the report. "The important thing is that she's safe now."

"I'm not sure I'd call being a ward of the state 'safe,'" she said, darkly.

"You turned out just fine."

Sara swallowed. "You don't know everything that…" She let the thought die. "So, that's it. The father's being charged with everything possible, and the mother's going down for neglect, along with attempted murder."

"Good work, Sara." He closed up the files. "I was hesitant to give you this assignment, but you handled it extremely well."

"Were you expecting me to fall apart?"

Grissom removed his glasses. "Abused mother tries to kill abuser…"

"But only succeeded in burning down the house. Grissom…" Sara shook her head. "I don't draw comparisons between myself and every case that comes along. Maybe you shouldn't either."

"You're right. You have my apology for that." He sat back in his chair. "Well, now that we've got Ecklie's useless formality out of the way...it's as good a time as any to discuss your yearly evaluation."

Sara blinked. She wasn't prepared for this. "Yeah. Why not?" Grissom pulled open a drawer in his desk and extracted a book. "What's that?"

"Another of Ecklie's ideas." He read the title off the cover. "'Common Sense Supervision.' Apparently, I need help." Opening the book, he continued, "Okay. Let's start by me asking you…what do you think of your performance over the past year?"

"Oh. Um…well…I think I've done well."

Grissom pointed to a page in his book. "This says I should ask you to elaborate."

Sara bit back a smile. "Okay. I've performed up to my expectations and, hopefully, yours, too. I look back on the past year with satisfaction for a job well done."

"I agree that you should," he said. "You have an enviable solve rate and you've played a major role in helping train Greg."

"I've enjoyed that," Sara told him. "He's like a sponge, soaking up all the information I can give him. I get this crazy sense of pride when he uses something I taught him during an investigation, you know?"

He nodded, almost wistfully. "I completely understand."

"At least he hasn't started quoting me yet," she teased. "That must be so annoying."

"I don't know. I've always found it flattering."

It was the nicest, warmest moment they'd shared in months, if not years. Sara wanted to wrap herself up in it, making it her insulation for the next time he walked past her in the halls or flirted with Sofia at a crime scene.

Just then, Judy the receptionist, appeared in the open doorway. "Sara," she said. "There's someone out front asking for you."

"Who is it?"

"Hank Peddigrew."

His name had the power to bring the pleasant moment to a screeching halt. Sara's face felt hot as she sought out eye contact with Grissom. But he was already looking away, focusing on anything else he could. Anything but her.

"He says he needs to talk to…"

Sara cut her off. "Tell him I'm in the middle of something. Please." Judy nodded and left. Sara waited a few seconds. "Grissom, I…"

"Nick's due in here any minute for his evaluation," he said, coolly. "Unless there's anything you need to add to yours, you're free to go."

"Of course," she whispered. "Back to business as usual, right?"

He had no reply as she walked out of his office.

* * *

She was just stepping out of her post-work shower later that day when her phone started ringing. Securing a towel around her body, Sara ran to get it.

"Hello?"

"Sara. It's Hank."

"To a woman who doesn't know better, your persistence could probably be considered charming, rather than two steps away from stalker."

"Please just hear me out before you hang up on me."

She sat down on the edge of her bed. "You've got two minutes."

"I'd like to take you to dinner. We won't call it a date. I'll even make you pay for half of it, if that'll make you feel better," he said rapidly.

"Why?"

"Because even after our talk the other night, there's been no closure to our relationship." Hank paused. "It's just dinner, Sara."

"And conversation," she added.

"I miss our conversations."

"Well, I miss being able to say that I've never been the other woman." She let him hang for another minute before giving in. It wasn't as if her social calendar was exactly bursting. "One dinner. Friday night. Eight o'clock. My choice of restaurant. And you're paying for it all."

"I'm looking forward to it."

The scary thing was that she almost was, too.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I'm between jobs right now, so I have a lot of free time, in case anyone was wondering where this crazy writing rash of mine is coming from. When I start my new job in a couple of weeks, it'll slow down a lot. In the meantime, enjoy;) And thank you, as always, for the kind reviews!

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Making the decision to have a child–it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking outside your body. – Elizabeth Stone

* * *

"Would you like to see the wine list, sir?"

Hank glanced across the elegantly set table for Sara's approval. She shook her head and he replied to their waiter, "No, thanks."

"Very good, sir." The man left them to their menus.

Opening his, Hank noted, "You used to love a good glass of wine."

"These days I prefer to keep my senses completely intact. Especially when I'm out with an ex." Sara scanned the menu, searching for a dish without meat. She'd chosen the restaurant based on the fact that it had a high Zagat rating without being too terribly expensive. She wanted to strain Hank's wallet, not break it. "Everything looks delicious."

"I recognize about half the things here," Hank laughed. "Chicken with mushrooms…that can't be screwed up, right?"

"Depends. Do you like porcinis, criminis and portabellos?"

"Maybe they can leave the mushrooms off."

Sara smiled as she set aside her menu. "Anything's possible. I mean, look at us. I never thought I'd ever share another meal with you." She sipped her water. "I really wanted to hate you."

"But you couldn't?"

"No, I could have. I just didn't want to be that bitter. When the anger eventually faded, I didn't have anything to feel badly about. In fact, all I was left with was one question." Sara looked straight at him. "Why did you do it?"

Hank shifted in his seat and tugged at his tie. "Well, you always were straightforward. It's admirable, until you're the one on the hot seat." He took a few gulps of ice water before he continued. "Okay. The truth is, I met you right at a really low point in my relationship with Elaine. It seemed like we were always fighting, to the point where I sometimes didn't even want to be around her because I knew it would just start up again. You were like…fresh air. Our jobs ran on the same track, so we always had plenty to talk about. Same taste in movies and music…it was great."

"But?"

"But then things with Elaine got better. I know it was wrong to think I could keep living some double life, but I liked you, Sara. I didn't want to hurt you. It all backfired, though, and I ended up hurting everyone. Even myself."

Sara tried not to nod; he didn't quite deserve her approval. "What were you and Elaine fighting about that was so bad?"

"Kids." He shrugged. "She wanted them; I didn't. We weren't even married yet, and she was already reading up on babies and pregnancy. I just…couldn't take it. I guess I wanted to be with a woman who was more focused on her career than her biological clock."

"I suppose I did project that 'career-oriented' vibe back then," Sara agreed. "But it's not so much the case now." The words amazed her, even as they left her mouth. "I really just said that."

"Is it true?"

"Yeah. I think it is." She lifted her shoulders. "With the right man, I guess I want kids. I'm in a good place financially. I'd have to rearrange my life a lot, but maybe it could use the rearranging." A cloud fell over her expression. "But it's not going to happen."

Hank frowned. "Why not?"

How did you tell an ex-boyfriend that you only wanted to have the children of the man you'd been in love with the entire time you were dating? And because that man had made it clear that there wouldn't ever be a relationship, you'd just about resigned yourself to being childless?

"Because how often does the right man come along?" Sara reached for her water glass. "And besides, what kind of a mother would I make?"

Hank leaned forward. "What kind of a mother would you want to be?"

The little girl holding her teddy bear outside of her burning trailer haunted Sara. "The kind who tries her hardest." She blinked. "Okay, I know I agreed to conversation, but this is going a little too deep for my liking."

The expression on his face was unreadable, but it seemed like he was contemplating something. Finally, he spoke. "Seen any good movies lately?"

* * *

If he were twenty years younger, the bar Catherine dragged him out to might have been more enjoyable. But at fifty, all he knew was that the music was too loud, the peanuts were stale, and every breast that caught his eye was fake. Not his idea of a rockin' Friday night anymore.

"Out of all the places in Las Vegas…" he shouted across the little table. "…why in the world did you think 'this is the place to take Gil out for a drink'?"

"You needed a change of atmosphere," Catherine shouted back. "Away from your safe little lab and your safe little restaurant lounge."

Grissom sighed. "A comfortable routine is not a rut. It merely offers a sense of security in an otherwise chaotic existence."

"If it makes you feel better to think of it that way, go right ahead." She bit into an olive from her martini. "The last time I was here…"

"The last time you were here…what?" Grissom prompted.

She licked the corner of her lip. "Well…I was with Sara. I took her out for a drink after she found out about Hank."

It was the second time in a week that he'd heard that name. Each instance had flooded him with all the old feelings of jealously and inadequacy. Feelings he thought he'd buried a long time ago when the younger man had mysteriously stopped showing up at the lab looking for Sara, and when all of Nick and Warrick's teasing about her boyfriend had ceased. He hadn't wanted the details back then. But now, he found himself inexplicably curious.

"Whatever happened between them?"

Catherine's eyebrow shot up. "You never heard?" He shook his head as he fortified himself with a slug of Scotch. "Technically he didn't cheat on her, as much as he used her to cheat on another woman. She found out in the shittiest way; Hank and his girlfriend were together at the scene of that case, remember…the little old lady who drove through the restaurant window?"

"I remember." He remembered watching Sara wrap Hank's wounded hand out of the corner of his eye. He remembered his blood boiling like it never had before. It had been the first time he'd really seen them together. It had made it all too real. "That must have devastated her."

"Eh, not so much." Catherine shrugged. "Her pride took the hardest beating, I think. It's not like he was the love of her life or anything."

The Scotch burned a path down his throat. "She told you that?"

"Not in so many words."

"She must have had some feelings for him." Grissom set down his glass with more force than necessary. "She's seeing him again."

"And…did she tell you that?"

"Not in so many…" He stopped. "I see what you're trying to do."

Catherine smiled wickedly. "Oh, Gil. I could never pull the wool over your baby blues." He shot her a look. His reprimanding expression quickly turned to one of confusion as Catherine's eyes grew wide. She was staring at something over his shoulder. "Then again," she breathed. "I have been known to be wrong on occasion."

He should have just let her strange comment slip by him. But he was a born investigator; he had to see everything for himself. Grissom turned his head.

Across the smoky length of the room, he could just make out two people entering. A tall man with sandy hair and a slender brunette. Hank and Sara.

* * *

"Hey, isn't that your boss?"

Who knew five simple words could stop her heart? But when Sara followed Hank's pointed finger, she did, in fact, see Grissom. Sitting at a cozy table for two. With Catherine.

She'd never put much stock in the occasional whisper that the two of them had a history. Nothing in their interactions had ever given her the slightest indication that they were anything more than colleagues and friends.

So maybe it was the fact that she was with another man and feeling slightly insubordinate about it that had her rethinking all of that.

It didn't seem like they'd noticed her. They were probably too wrapped up in each other. And maybe it was just as well. No eye contact meant no forced greetings or faked smiles. It meant that she could leave just as quietly as she'd come.

"You know…" Sara pretended to look at her watch. "I didn't realize how late it is. I should be getting home."

"Oh." Hank's disappointment was obvious. "Well, thanks for letting me buy you dinner. I..."

She cut him off. "Sure. Keep in touch." She was in such a hurry to go that she didn't even realize she leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the lips. "Bye."

After her hasty exit, Hank put all the pieces together. Especially after he caught her boss giving him a very dangerous glare.

* * *

The next few days at work were some of the hardest Sara had ever been through. She was avoiding two people on her team, and one of them was avoiding her right back. The stress of having to constantly be aware of her surroundings as she moved through her day, just in case she crossed paths with either of them, wore her down. By the end of the week, all she wanted to do was slip into a hot bath, climb into bed and reading until she passed out.

Her relaxing plan was thwarted when Hank showed up at her apartment without so much as a phone call to prepare her.

"Hank?" There was no reason to be modest; he'd seen her in a lot less clothing than just her robe, but Sara found herself holding the garment closed at her throat. "What are you doing here?"

"I'd rather we talk inside. Can I come in?"

She stepped back a few inches, allowing him to slip past her. "What's this about?" she asked, closing the door.

He took a seat on her couch. With his elbows on his knees, he steepled his long fingers, a picture of serious concentration. "Ever since our talk at dinner, I've been doing some thinking."

"Okay…"

Hank hesitated. "There's no really delicate way to say this, so I'll just put it out there and let you digest it. You want to have a baby. I can't say the same, but I think you'd be a terrific parent. I think you should have the opportunity. So…that's what I'm offering you."

"What?" Her head was spinning and not entirely in a good way. "Are you saying…"

"Yeah. Um…maybe you should sit down, Sara. You look a little pale."

She sat in the chair catty-corner to the couch. "Can you blame me? You're offering me your sperm like I'd lend Greg my phenothalein."

"It wouldn't be as clinical as that." He reached for her hand. "And it's not like we've never been in bed together. This time, it would be with a purpose. Not just for fun. And we'd only have to do it…you know…when the timing was right."

"I can't…even believe I'm having this discussion." Sara shook her head back and forth. "It's too surreal. It's a bad TV movie come to life."

Hank had to smile. "I know. Trust me, when the idea came to me, I figured I was going crazy. But the more I thought about it, the more right it started to feel."

"And how's that?"

"When I said I didn't want to have children, I meant it. Some people just shouldn't and I'm one of them. I like my freedom too much. I like not having to worry about anyone else but myself when I'm at a scene."

Sara frowned. "So why are you doing this? It would be your child, too."

"Well, yeah. But I'd trust you to raise it. I'd be a part of its life only as much as you'd want me to be. And if that was no part at all, I'd be totally fine with it."

"You say that now. But the day would come when you'd start feeling fatherly. And then, because it really would be your child, I'd have little to no say in the matter."

Hank squeezed her hand. "I'd sign whatever papers you want saying that I wouldn't do exactly that. Sara…if this is something you want, let me help you. I owe it to you."

"So, you're offering yourself up as a breeding stud because you feel bad about using me to cheat on your girlfriend?" Sara pulled her hand back. "Hallmark has a whole section of 'I'm sorry' cards; you could just send me one!"

"I know who your right man would be." He shrugged. "I'm not entirely stupid." He paused. "Do you ever think he'll come around?"

Sara's eyes misted over. "No. I don't think he will."

"Then…if you can't have kids with him, could you settle for having one with me?"

She looked away for a long time before she answered his question.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I know this story seems a little odd. But please bear with me. Give me the benefit of the doubt;) I'll make it worth your while. Thanks for everything!

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Mr. Grissom?" He lifted his head from his hands and blinked in the glare of the white hospital lights. The heavyset nurse smiled at him. "Sara's asking for you."

Grissom stood up on shaky legs. "How…how is she?"

"You can ask her that yourself," the woman said, pleasantly. "Through that door."

She looked considerably more comfortable than she had been in his car, even though she was now hooked into what seemed like every machine in the maternity ward. When he entered her room, Sara gave him a slightly loopy grin. "I figured you'd have gone, but they told me you were still here."

He approached the bed in which she laid. "I…um…are you okay?"

"They gave me something called Etonox. It's helping with the pain a little bit. Mostly it's just making me feel dizzy." She frowned. "This really hurts like a bitch."

Grissom nodded. "That's what Catherine always says."

She splayed her hands over her protruding belly. "I should call her. Tell her I don't think I'll be at work later."

"Already done," he told her. A moment passed. "Is there anything else I can do for you? Anyone else I can call?"

Sara rested her head against her pillows. "Like who?"

"Well…not to put too fine a point on it, but…the baby's father?" Grissom looked down at the tiled floor. "Don't you want him here?"

"So. The elephant in the room has finally been addressed," she sighed.

He glanced back up. "I'm not blind, Sara. I know. I've always known."

"Whatever you think you…" She inhaled sharply. "Grissom…can we talk about this…" Her whole body tightened up. "...later, please?"

"Sara?" Her eyes were screwed shut. She reached out her hand, searching for something to grab onto.

Without weighing the possible consequences of the action, Grissom offered her his.

"Keep breathing," he murmured. Her fingers gripped him so hard that her knuckles turned white. There was a strange ache in his chest, seeing her in such pain. "It'll be okay, honey."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks to everyone who's still reading/reviewing. I appreciate it a heck of a lot;)

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Just because everything is different doesn't mean that everything has changed. – Irene Peter

* * *

_Six months earlier_

He should have seen it coming. But the first time she excused herself from an autopsy with her hand firmly clapped to her mouth, Grissom had been too engrossed in the case to notice her nausea. Because he hadn't noticed the first instance, the second time it happened, he'd been able to write it off as a tender stomach combined with a particularly bloody corpse.

The third time, however, a little warning light went off in the back of his mind. Something wasn't quite right with Sara.

So when she asked to see him alone in his office, he already knew the exact words he did not want to hear come out of her mouth. He even considered bargaining with a higher being. Please don't let her be…it's not supposed to happen like this…not with him…I just needed some more time.

Sara cleared her throat. She wasn't looking straight at him across his desk, but a little bit to his right. "There's no good way to say this except to just say it," she began. "I'm pregnant."

And that was what a broken heart felt like. He'd always been curious.

She kept going, just to fill in the horrible silence. "I'd like to keep working as close to my due date as possible, but there are some obvious concerns. No more overtime, for one. No solo cases for my own safety and also the integrity of the investigation. You know, in case I get sick or have a doctor's appointment. Or when I get too big to bend down to collect things." She paused. "I've already talked to my doctor and gotten a list of chemicals that I should avoid. Really, I think it'll all go…smoothly."

A minute passed.

"Can you say something, Grissom? Please?"

His voice, like his stare, was dull. "Congratulations."

Sara's chin wobbled slightly. "Thanks."

"Who…um…" He shook his head. "Never mind."

She waited another second. "I'm not going to tell the guys until next month when I'm past the first trimester. I just…" She raised one shoulder. "I wanted to tell you first. It wasn't so long ago that you were my friend."

Grissom had no idea what to say to that.

"I'll get out of your way now." Sara stood up and walked to the door. Before opening it, she turned and gave him a weak smile. "Thank you. For not asking."

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

So much for bargaining with God.

* * *

If the other members of the graveyard shift were surprised when Grissom went from doing everything possible to avoid working with Sara, to assigning her to work with him constantly, they wisely kept it to themselves. 

A month slipped by. After a particularly memorable doctor's visit, Sara decided it was time to make her big announcement.

"Can everyone stay for just a minute?" she asked the group after Grissom handed out the evening's assignments.

There were some looks exchanged until Greg took it upon himself to answer for the team. "What's up?"

Sara reached a shaky hand into her bag and withdrew a single photograph. Studiously avoiding eye contact with everyone, she placed it in the middle of the table.

Catherine was the first to recognize it. She immediately looked at Sara. Then at Grissom. The pained expression on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Nick frowned. At his angle, the picture was upside down. "Um…it's a peanut."

"No, man. Gummi bear." Greg said. "Squint your eyes a little."

"Guys." Warrick shook his head. "It's a sonogram picture."

"But…that means…" The light bulb went off in Nick's brain. "Sara?"

Greg caught up a second later. "It's not a gummi bear. It's a baby!"

"It's just that sort of brilliant deductive reasoning that got you this gig, Greg." Catherine turned to Sara. "Never knew you had a flare for the dramatic."

Shaking away his shock, Nick went to her and gave her a hug. "Congratulations, darlin'."

She smiled into his shoulder. "Thank you, Nick."

Warrick took his place, giving her an extra little squeeze. "Let me second that."

"You're pregnant?" Greg blurted out. "But who's the…"

Grissom stood up. "Sara has already worked out a plan to keep working as long as possible. But everyone's help and understanding will be needed. There are certain tests she won't be able to perform due to their chemical content. And as…this progresses, she'll encounter some physical restrictions for which the person working with her will need to compensate. If that's going to be a problem for anyone, let me know."

"So…you already knew about this?" Catherine's eyebrow arched.

He gave her a cool look. "I am the shift supervisor." Grissom glanced around at his team. "Everyone's got their assignments. Good luck." He addressed Sara without looking straight at her. "Sara, I'll be at the car whenever you're ready to head out."

When he left, the mood in the room seemed to relax a bit, and even more so when Catherine took off a second later.

Nick took Sara's hand. "It's none of my business, but is there a responsible party out there who needs an old-fashioned shotgun shakedown?"

Sara kissed his cheek. "I've got it all under control. But the offer is appreciated."

"Hey…Southern Man." Addressing Nick, Warrick jerked his head towards the door. "We gotta mosey."

The two men left, and it was just Sara and Greg. With a sigh, Sara reached for the photo. She stared at it for a second. "It does look like a gummi bear."

She could not have surprised Greg more when she suddenly burst into tears. He watched her slip into a chair and bend over under the weight of her sobs.

"Sara…" Wiping his clammy hands on his pants, he sat next to her. "If it helps, it looks like a really healthy gummi bear."

"I've got to be crazy for doing this by myself," she cried.

Greg hesitantly reached out to rub her back. "Papa Olaf used to say something about how it takes a village to raise a kid." He waited until she looked up at him through teary eyes. "You're not gonna be alone. I promise."

It was supposed to make her smile. But for some reason, it just made her cry harder. Greg blamed it on hormones and just kept gently patting her back until her tears ebbed away.

* * *

Grissom parked a little ways down the street from the chaotic hub that was their murder scene. He paused after turning off the ignition. The drive over had been an exercise in silent torture. The subtle scent that was simply Sara had his head spinning. It wasn't the first time he'd had to restrain himself from pulling over and confronting this thing, once and for all, but it was a new excuse that kept him in check. 

The tiny life growing deep inside of her. The life that another man had put there.

Sara glanced over at him. "Is something wrong?"

He blew out a short breath. "No. Why don't you go ahead? I'll be there in a minute."

She had a puzzled look on her face as she opened her door. "Okay."

Grissom waited until he saw her duck under the yellow tape blocking off the scene before he reached into the backseat for her bag.

He'd avoided looking at the picture when she'd brought it out for the team. But now he couldn't tear his eyes away from it. It was real. And he could no longer pretend that he was just caught in his worst nightmare.

"You're lucky you've got her," he told the little lump of tissue that would grow into his greatest rival for Sara's affection. "I wish I could say the same."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	6. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I love my readers;) Thanks for sticking with me.

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

The first and simplest emotion which we discover in the human mind is curiosity. - Edmund Burke

* * *

It was odd how little her life changed in the first few months. The nausea associated with pregnancy was rare and never lasted long. She did find herself sleeping more and eating better, but other than that, her life progressed almost as normal.

Until the day when she couldn't fit into any of her pants.

Her first trip to the maternity store was a nightmare of beaming salesgirls who were just a little too excited about oversized tops and jeans with expandable fronts, and tired-looking women in far more advanced states of pregnancy, giving her a frightening glimpse into the near future.

She managed to purchase a few outfits that weren't completely hideous and escaped as quickly as possible. By that time, though, her stomach was growling, so she swung by the food court for a bite to eat. She'd just settled down with her salad when she heard a familiar voice.

"Sara?" Sofia approached her table, laden down with several shopping bags. Sara noted the pink and white stripes of Victoria's Secret and the navy blue of the GAP before she stopped looking. Her own bag from Mother's Little Helper sat in plain view next to her tray.

"Sofia. What are you doing…" Sara stopped. "Sorry. I was about to ask a very dumb question."

"I ended a relationship last week," Sofia told her. "It always puts me in the mood for a wardrobe update." With her eyes on Sara's bag, she continued. "Are congratulations in order?"

Sara gave her a tight smile. "Yes. Thank you."

"So…who's the lucky guy?"

Her smile faded. "I'm sorry. I didn't hear that. Mall echo."

Sofia nodded. "Sure." Giving Sara a little nod, she backed up a step. "Have a good day, Sara."

Well, the time she'd had before everyone in Las Vegas law enforcement knew about the pregnancy had been nice. Too bad it would be over before the start of her shift.

* * *

Even though he had a good idea of the timeline of Sara's pregnancy, the milestones still managed to sneak up on him.

One day, while swabbing a sink drain, Grissom happened to glance over at Sara as she printed a window frame. She'd taken off her heavy jacket inside the house, the jacket that had thus far concealed the gentle swell of her belly.

This wasn't an extra five pounds on her slender frame. It was decidedly maternal. Proof that the baby was growing, thriving. Four months. According to the books and websites he'd read recently, the fetus was now about the size of an avocado and growing bigger every day. In fact, it shouldn't be too long until Sara felt it moving. If she hadn't already. She'd have no real reason to tell him if she had.

As it turned out, when it happened, he was the only other person in the room. Finding out by default…better than nothing, he supposed.

Another night, another crime scene, this time a strip club just off the old Strip. The main room had been cleared for him and Sara to process the shooting. They were working side by side, collecting broken glass when she suddenly stopped.

"Sara?" His concern went up a notch when she stood up and grabbed her lower belly. "Is something wrong? Are you in pain!"

"No. No, I'm fine. Grissom…" Her smile lit up her entire face. "It moved. I…I felt it move!"

Grissom got to his feet, unsure of what to say or do. "If you need a minute, we can take a short…"

She must have been caught up in the moment because she cut him off by seizing his hand and placing it on her bulge. "Right there. Can you feel it?"

He really wanted to, but all he could feel was the warmth of her body through her clothes. He'd touched her hands, both of her arms, her upper and lower back and even felt her breast against his shoulder one time when she got a little too close for comfort. But he'd never touched her like this. This was a touch reserved for a lover, or at the very least, a close friend. Did that mean that she still considered him a friend? That at least he hadn't pushed her too far away?

Disappointment flooded him a second later. "I don't feel anything," Grissom was forced to admit.

Sara shook her head. "It was just a flutter. And it's stopped." But he hadn't stopped cupping her belly. They both realized it at the same time and for the briefest of seconds, their eyes met.

Grissom withdrew his hand like he'd been touching a flame. "Um…the offer of a break still stands."

"It's okay." She pulled off her gloves and dug into her kit for a fresh pair. She moved so fast that he didn't even notice her fingers trembling. "Let's keep going."

His hand was still warm as he copied her motions.

* * *

Catherine had always wondered if Sara actually had an apartment. With as many hours as she put in every week, it almost made sense to assume she just slept and showered at work. So when she got a frantic call from the younger woman asking her to drop everything and come to her place, Catherine was a little relieved to know Sara's baby wouldn't be raised in the lab.

Sara answered the door a little sweaty, a lot rumpled and on the verge of tears. "I can't put together a crib." She gestured Catherine inside and continued, "I can do complex mathematics in my head. I can analyze tire treads, blood spatter, bullet tracks. I can take apart and reassemble an entire car. But I cannot put together a goddamn piece of nursery furniture!"

"Okay, take a breath." Catherine waited until Sara had obligingly sucked in a lungful of air and slowly expelled it. "What you really cannot do is stress yourself out this much. It's so very bad for the baby. You might as well just chug back a few shots of tequila while you're at it."

Nodding, Sara took another breath. "It's just…I followed the instructions. To the letter. And I ended up with the surrealist's answer to wood sculpting." She led Catherine back to the spare bedroom which she'd recently given a fresh coat of mint green paint in preparation for its conversion into the nursery, and pointed to the jumble of white slats and screws that should have been a crib.

"And you thought to call me? Gee, I'm touched."

"I needed to make sure that a woman could actually do this. That the stupid instructions weren't written in some Man code, designed to punish single women for procreating outside the confines of a so-called traditional relationship."

Catherine had to laugh. "Let me see them. I learned to speak Man at my old job."

Pushing hair out of her eyes, Sara retrieved the crumpled paper. "I got a little frustrated with it," she explained as Catherine smoothed it out.

While Catherine alternated between reading and examining the product of her efforts, Sara rubbed her hand in lazy circles over her belly. Every now and then she would stop and smile. Catherine knew that look; it only came from the miraculous feeling of the life inside of you moving.

"I think I see what the problem is," she eventually said. "And good news…it shouldn't even be too hard to fix it."

Twenty minutes later, the sides of the crib were properly assembled. All they needed to do was connect the pieces.

"You're getting a head start on all of this," Catherine noted. "I swear, Lindsey didn't have a crib until the week she was born."

"I wanted to get the heavy stuff out of the way early on," Sara explained. "Before I get too big to do anything but sit on the couch like a beached whale."

"If you don't mind me asking…why isn't the baby's father helping you with some of this? It takes two, after all."

Sara stopped halfway through rotating a screw into place. "Are you sure?"

Catherine frowned. "What does that mean?"

"It means, thanks for your inquiry, but can we not? I still have a changing table that won't put itself together."

"You can't fault people for being curious, Sara."

"I can't?"

She sighed. "Maybe you can. But you can't expect to pull a Murphy Brown without raising a few eyebrows."

"If I'm really the best piece of gossip going, there must be a serious drought in drama." Sara stepped away from the crib and examined it with a critical eye. "It looks great," she finally said. "I guess I was stressing a little bit. But I'm fine now. Stress-free."

The older woman glanced at her. "Still, I should probably stick around and help with that changing table, don't you think?"

Sara gave her a small, grateful smile. "If you wanted to, I wouldn't mind."

* * *

"Sara, have you seen the DNA results for…"

"Shh." Greg silenced Grissom as his boss walked into the break room several weeks later, his nose buried in a case folder. He pointed to the small couch where Sara lay, as comfortable as she could be with her now-prominent stomach. "She went out like a light a few minutes ago."

Grissom set down his file. It was only the second time Sara had fallen asleep while on duty, but he knew her well enough to know that she never would have let herself if she hadn't been thoroughly exhausted.

Her face was relaxed, free for the moment of the faint lines her years on the job had imprinted upon her. Pregnant women were known for their glow, and Sara was no exception. As her stomach expanded, her body had become softer, curvier, no longer so lean and angular.

She still took his breath away.

Greg walked to the door with his coffee. "I say let her be. She's sleeping for two."

Grissom tore his eyes away from Sara long enough to give Greg a look before he left. He returned his attention to the sleeping woman. Her shirt was flimsy; he wondered if there was a blanket anywhere that he could put over her to keep her warm.

His gaze trailed down to her stomach. At almost six months, there was no mistaking the bulge now for anything other than a baby. Had Sara learned its sex? Was she already starting to put together a nursery? Was the baby's father helping her paint walls, hang curtains, assemble furniture? Did he remind her daily that she was still beautiful, attractive, desirable? Did he…

Sara shifted slightly as if searching for a better position. Grissom blinked out of his reverie only seconds before the swing shift receptionist came over the intercom system.

"CSI Sidle, you have a visitor at the front desk."

He waited to see if the noise would wake her. It didn't. Gathering his case file, Grissom left the break room and closed the door behind him, determined that she wouldn't be disturbed.

It was something more than mere curiosity that prompted him to walk to the front desk. Was it protectiveness? That was a safe emotion for a supervisor to have for a member of his team. Anything more would have been unprofessional.

But it wasn't a desire to protect a co-worker that came over him when he saw Hank standing there, waiting. It was something much more malevolent.

Hank noticed that he was being watched a few moments later. "Mr. Grissom," he said in greeting. "Is Sara around?"

He hadn't punched someone in the eye since grade school, but it was never too late when the action was justified. "She's busy, Hank," Grissom lied.

The young EMT nodded. "Okay." He paused. "I just needed to talk to her and she's not…"

Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets just in case he lost the battle with his common sense and actually did deck the man. "Perhaps this impromptu conversation with Sara should take place at another time. And another place."

"Oh, I get it." Hank snorted softly. "When she's here, she's yours, right?" He shook his head. "Well, guess what? It's not just here, man."

"Hank." Grissom gestured towards the exit.

He seemed to get the hint. "When you see Sara, tell her to give me a call."

Walking back to the break room, Grissom found himself in a moral quandary. To tell or not to tell.

On the one hand, helping put Hank and Sara in touch made his stomach crawl. He had taken her away, used her and discarded her three years earlier. And now he was back for a second round, only this time, he'd also left her pregnant.

But therein lay the quandary. She was carrying the man's baby and despite whatever problems they were having, the man at least was entitled be part of it all. And Sara deserved the support of her baby's father during the next few months. Who was he to stand in the way of that for his own selfish purposes?

Sara was already halfway awake when he pulled up a chair to the break room couch. "Grissom," she murmured, opening her eyes. Suddenly realizing she was lying down, Sara tried to sit up, but her stomach prevented her from moving very much. "Oh, god…I fell asleep again. I am so sorry; I didn't mean to…"

"Sara, relax. It's all right." Grissom paused. "I have to tell you…Hank Peddigrew was here a minute ago, looking for you. He asked that you give him a call."

She gave up her struggle to rise and let herself sink back into the cushions. "Oh. Well…thanks for letting me know."

Technically, he'd done what he was asked to do and he really wasn't required to do or say anything further. How was it that the one time he didn't need to speak, he couldn't keep the words from coming out?

"Sara, awhile back, I had another co-worker, a friend, who was pregnant and having trouble with the baby's father. She wanted my advice...and yes, I wondered what she was thinking, too. But I told her…to think about her baby. When it's all said and done, isn't that the most important thing?"

"Grissom…" Sara's face paled. "Excuse me!" Heaving herself off of the couch, Sara ran for the bathroom door.

He might not have been much of a people person, but Grissom understood enough about human behavior to know that there was something more to this story than anyone was being told.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	7. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: My deepest appreciation to the people who read and reviewed the last chapter. It's always a lot easier to keep a story going when you know people are enjoying reading it. On that note, enjoy!

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Sara, you're about eight centimeters dilated." The nurse patted her hand. "We're getting there."

"Only eight?" she cried. "How is that possible? It's been hours!"

The nurse smiled. "You ever wake up in the morning and just refuse to leave your warm bed?"

Sara blew out a breath. "If you're saying the kid's too comfortable, too bad! I'm kicking it out of bed!"

Grissom had stayed back a safe distance while the nurse had checked Sara's progress. Despite being almost four weeks early and apparently snug and secure in its mother's womb, the baby was doing just fine. Although the doctor Grissom had cornered outside in the hallway had admitted that if the baby was under five pounds at birth, it would be taken to the PICU. Then the doctor had told him that if he was planning to be in the delivery room, he needed to see a nurse about getting a face mask.

And that had left Grissom speechless.

Ever since then, he'd been very aware of his presence in what was inarguably at private moment in Sara's life. He probably should have excused himself a long time ago, but doing so would have left her all alone. His own unease wasn't strong enough for him to be quite that heartless.

Once the nurse was gone, he went back to Sara's side. She tried to smile, but couldn't quite make it. The labor was wearing on her. "Apparently, I didn't pass my punctuality on to my child."

"All things in their time. Even babies," Grissom said. "The length of time my mother claims to have been in labor with me is in direct proportion to how irritated she is with me. In fifteen, twenty years, you can either say this was a breeze, or the longest week of your life."

Sara inhaled, then exhaled slowly. "What's your mother's name?"

It didn't feel strange to tell her about his mother, like he'd always feared it would be. That fear, he realized, kept her from knowing even the most basic thing like his mother's name. Considering the intimate details she'd shared about her own family, suddenly he felt quite ashamed of himself. "Emily."

"Emily. I like it." She touched her stomach. "Maybe I'll give birth to an Emily."

He still couldn't believe she'd chosen not to learn the baby's sex, and had stuck to her decision. The element of surprise had never been his friend.

"You and…he never discussed baby names?"

Sara shook her head against the pillow. "Please don't, Grissom. I can't…not now."

"Sara, the last thing I want to do is upset you. But…the nurse said you're getting there. And I have the distinct impression that 'there' is something the baby's father should be here for. And Sara…" He swallowed. "I'm not him."

"Him." Her laugh was laced with bitterness. "There is no 'him,' Grissom."

"I don't understand. Hank…"

"Is not the father."

Why was his shock coupled with a huge wave of relief? Apparently, his chest had been hurting for months, and only now did the pressure magically lift. "How?" was the only thought he could put into words.

Sara closed her eyes, her brow furred as the pain became stronger. "Turkey baster."

"Sara?"

Her eyes flew open. "I was artificially inseminated, all right? Are you satisfied now? There's no one to call because the only thing I know about my baby's father is the color of his hair and eyes and a brief medical history. I wanted to be a mother and didn't see a relationship in my future, so I just went ahead with it." She twisted the sheets in her hands. "So if you've stayed all this time because you feel sorry for me because I don't have anyone to share this with, just understand that I asked for it. I've done everything of any importance in my life alone, and there's no reason this should be any different."

He should have held her. He should have kissed her forehead. He should have told her that she'd never be alone again because he planned to be there from then on to share all those important moments. He should have done something, anything, other than stand there, trying to think of something to say.

Sara's chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. "Just go." When he didn't move, she raised her voice. "Please leave! I mean it, Grissom…go! Now!"

As he left the room, the pressure in his chest returned, ten times worse than before.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	8. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: My continued thanks and humble appreciation go out to all my readers/reviewers;) Y'all are just the best!

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

To be trusted is a greater compliment than to be loved. – George MacDonald

* * *

_One month earlier_

"Open mine next." Greg thrust a flamboyantly wrapped package into Sara's hand. The grin he gave her was almost Machiavellian. It made her just a little bit hesitant as she accepted the gift.

The baby shower had been planned and executed by Catherine without her knowledge or input. Not that she was complaining. Far from the terrifying picture she'd had of paper máché storks, watercress sandwiches and embarrassing party games to determine who could diaper a doll the fastest, the shower had actually turned out to be pretty cool. Held at a rented room in the Sphere that must have cost Catherine a few pennies, there was a martini bar for everyone who wasn't pregnant, gourmet finger foods, a huge chocolate cake, and not a trace of pink or blue in sight. If not for the gifts piled around the seven months pregnant woman, it might have been mistaken for a singles mixer.

So far, she'd received a designer diaper bag from Catherine, an infinitely soft baby blanket from Nick that would be embroidered with the baby's name, birthday, weight and height as soon as all of that was determined, a set of high-tech baby monitors from Warrick, and a Waterford silver feeding spoon from Doc Robbins, plus several other gifts in the same vein from the co-workers who'd dropped by briefly before heading to work.

Now, she gingerly opened Greg's gift, keeping a wary eye on him the entire time. She lifted the lid off a shirt box; nestled inside a layer of tissue paper was a tiny shirt that read "If you think I'm cute, you should see my Mommy."

Sara burst out laughing. "Leave it to you, Greg, to turn my kid into a crawling date service."

"There's more," he urged her.

Underneath the baby's garment lay one in her size. "If you think I'm cute, you should see my baby," Sara read aloud.

"Now he's pimping out the kid," Warrick snorted.

Catherine saluted him with her drink. "Classy, Greggo."

"I think they're adorable," Sara defended him. She didn't add that matching clothes were going to be a strict no-no in the Sidle household. "Thank you, Greg."

With the gifts out of the way, the party was officially winding down. And still, Sara kept watching the door, waiting for him to arrive. But only, she kept telling herself, to have the guilty pleasure of seeing Grissom at a baby shower.

But it had been two hours. And he still hadn't shown.

Being the party's host, Catherine called an end to the festivities when she recruited the boys to carry the load of presents to Sara's car. While they were busy, she approached the guest of honor.

"It's probably too late to ask this, but did you want a shower?"

Sara smiled, shaking her head. "No, but what the hell do I know? This was great, Catherine. I really appreciate it."

"Good." She folded her arms over her chest. "In case you were wondering, he did say he'd come."

She feigned interest in the leftover icing on her cake plate. "Okay."

"He's having a hard time with all of this, Sara."

Looking Catherine straight in the eye, she asked, "Why's that?"

"Would you want to watch him having a baby with another woman?"

Just then, Greg came back into the room. "Hey, Sara…we're going." He tossed her the keys to her car. "See you at the lab."

"Bye. Thanks again!" When he was gone, Sara struggled to stand. "I miss my waist," she grumbled.

"That's about normal." Catherine looked around. "The hotel will clean up for us, so anytime you're ready…"

She nodded. "Yeah. I just want to save some cake. The only craving I've had has been for chocolate frosting."

"It's better than Beluga caviar," Catherine replied, tossing her hair out of her eyes. "Sixty dollars an ounce and I threw it all up an hour later." She grabbed her purse. "Later."

Five minutes later, Sara had managed to box up several slices of the luscious dessert. She was waddling for the door when it suddenly opened on its own.

"Hank? What are you…?"

"I heard you'd be here." Hank stepped inside. "Since you've successfully avoided my calls and visits to the lab, I figured this was the only way I'd ever get to talk to you." His gaze dropped down to her swollen belly. "You know, when you said you'd think about my offer, I really thought you would. Guess I was wrong. Artificial insemination?"

"It worked out better this way," Sara said. "My baby is mine alone, and you didn't have to pity-screw me. I call that a win-win situation."

Hank shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you'd pick something so…clinical and artificial over the real thing." He paused. "Although that's pretty much in character."

Her head snapped up. "That was so uncalled for. I don't know why you're upset, but don't you dare take it out on me." She put a protective hand on her stomach. "If you'll excuse me…"

He moved directly in front of her, blocking her path to the door. "Let me guess. When it came time to pick the color of your donor's eyes, you went for blue." Sara looked away. "Yeah, I figured as much."

She kept looking off to the right. "Hank, your proposal was noble. In a soap opera alternate universe where this sort of thing is normal. But in my world, you don't sleep with an ex-boyfriend. Especially not in the hopes of conceiving a baby. It's just plain weird. So, you can accuse me of being cold and detached all you want. And you can think I'm pathetic for my choice in donors." Sara turned her frown onto him with full force. "Just don't expect me to care all that much."

They faced off for another moment. Finally, Hank broke the stare. "Look, maybe I got into this idea of being a father more than I thought I would."

"I called that one. Remember?"

"Yeah. You did." Hank sighed. "Sara, if you ever need anything…" He let the offer trail when she lowered her chin in acknowledgement.

As he turned to go, the door opened again. Grissom entered, carrying a single gift. Sara couldn't quite keep the pleasure out of her voice. "You came."

"I'm late," he said, regretfully. His expression cooled. "Hello, Hank."

Hank fixed him with a hard glare as he brusquely passed him. The door slammed shut, leaving Grissom and Sara alone.

"Sorry about that," Sara sighed.

The last thing he wanted to do was to hear about her relationship with the man, good or bad. Sometimes he wanted to forget Hank even existed. But it was hard to do that when Sara was walking around, carrying a part of him.

"It's all right." Grissom smiled, ruefully. "To tell the truth, I'm late on purpose. I didn't want to play any party games."

"No games," she said. "But I share your fear of them." She paused. "There's cake, though. Good cake. Chocolate. Really thick icing."

He held up a hand. "You don't have to sell me on cake, Sara."

A few minutes later, they were both equipped with a slice. Sara swallowed a bite and pointed to Grissom's gift. "Is that for me?"

"Yes. Um…would you like to open it?"

She gave him a look. "Hand it over." Setting aside her cake, Sara ripped into the pastel paper.

"Gift wrapping," he apologized for the cutsey-ness of it. "There is apparently no such thing as understated baby…"

"Oh, Grissom…" Sara lifted a thin embossed album into the air. "A baby book."

He shrugged, as though the gift was inadequate. "If you've already bought one, don't feel like you have to…"

"I haven't." When she looked at him, there were tears in her eyes. "But even if I had, this is the one I would keep. It's beautiful, Grissom. I love it. I'm going to start filling it out tonight."

If she hadn't known better, she could have sworn his cheeks flushed. "I'm glad you like it."

Brushing away her tears, Sara dug into her bag until she came up with a pen. "Why wait until tonight?" She opened the album and flipped through it until she found the pages reserved for recording the events of the baby shower. On the first line under the heading "gifts for baby," she wrote down "baby book from Gil Grissom."

Sara looked back up. "Thank you."

Grissom nodded. "You're welcome."

She set the book aside. The perfect time and place she'd been searching for had arrived. They were alone and any tension that existed between them had temporarily melted away. It was now or never.

"Grissom, I've been thinking about something for awhile. And I realize this is going to probably be the single biggest thing I've ever asked anyone in my life, but it just feels right."

"I'm listening."

After a calming breath, Sara went on. "I'd like you to be my baby's godfather."

It was like she'd sucked all of the air out of the room. Grissom didn't move, didn't blink for a full minute. "Sara…"

"You don't have to answer right now," she clarified in a huge rush. "Take all the time you need to think about it. Like I said, I know it's a lot to ask."

He looked down at his half-eaten slice of cake. "Sara, I'm…flattered. I am. But shouldn't you pick someone who's…I don't know…spiritual?"

"I don't think spiritual has to be synonymous with religious." Sara gently rubbed her stomach. "You question your world. You look for truth and you never settle for anything less than knowing everything you can. I want my child to grow up with that thirst for knowledge." She lowered her lashes. "I'd like it if he or she learns it from the person who taught it to me."

Her words touched places in his heart he'd never known could feel so warm. But it was a dangerous warmth. He had to temper it with a cold dose of reality. "Wouldn't someone like Nick be a better choice? Or maybe there's someone in the baby's father's family who…"

"I want you." He blinked and she cleared her throat. "Um…just please think about it." She paused for a second before starting the process of hauling herself out of her chair.

Grissom watched her reverently place the baby book into her bag. She picked up her take-home plate of cake and turned back to him. "I have to run home, so I might be a few minutes late to work." She gave him a smile that looked forced. "I just want you to know…I'd never ask this of someone I didn't trust with my own life."

She left a moment later in the adorable duck-walk of the pregnant woman. Grissom pulled both his hands down the length of his face.

"Good going, Gil."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	9. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Yay! I'm so glad y'all seem to be enjoying my story! I hope that doesn't change. Thank you, thank you, thank you;)

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

The future has a way of arriving unannounced. – George Will

* * *

For Sara Sidle, the joy of being pregnant had worn off. 

No longer did she marvel at waking in the middle of the night because her baby was kicking; now she just counted the minutes until the internal soccer game ceased. The sudden increase in her bust line wasn't fun anymore; now they just hurt all the time. She was fat and far too gassy for her own liking. Her back and feet never stopped aching, not that she seen her feet in weeks. No matter how much she slept, she never got enough rest and sometimes she wasn't sure how she was going to make it through a month until her due date.

But at least she was still able to work. She was limited in what she could do, but it was better than sitting in her apartment with only her negative thoughts to keep her company until the baby arrived.

She was waiting in the break room for assignments, flipping through a copy of _Parenting_ magazine when Grissom entered. "Sara. Great, you're here."

Since the shower, things hadn't been exactly strained, but her request that he be the baby's godfather had definitely altered something between them. And she couldn't decide it if it was for better or worse.

"What's going on?" For the first time, she looked around at the empty room. "Where is everyone?"

"Greg's got the flu and Nick's stuck in Dallas. Massive thunderstorm grounded all departing flights." He adjusted his glasses, a sure sign that he was stressed out. "Catherine and Warrick are already out on a double homicide, but we've got another that just rolled in. Apparently every nut job in this city came out tonight."

"Well, it is a full moon."

Grissom nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah. Sara…"

"Would I like to go with you to the scene?" She tossed aside her magazine. "Why thank you for asking, Grissom. I'd love to!"

His expression was a mixture of amusement and concern. "If you did come, you would only be there to photo-document. Maybe to take my notes. This is your last week before maternity leave and you're supposed to be doing nothing more stressful than paperwork."

She rolled her eyes while he spoke. "I'm aware, Doctor. I promise to be good." Sara held out her hands. "Help me up?"

Her belly stretched across the space between them. They stood face to face for a long moment, fingers entwined. She was afraid to move; it had been so long since he'd touched her. In fact, it seemed like he'd avoided doing just that ever since the night she'd first felt the baby move, and tried to let him feel it too. But now their hands were laced together and if she had the guts, she could very easily lean forward and kiss him.

One of the worst things about being pregnant was sudden and never predictable urge to use the bathroom. Sara groaned inwardly and slipped her hands out of his grasp. The loss of contact surprised him as much as it pained her. "Meet you at the car," she told him.

It was in the ladies room, just as she was drying her hands, that Sara started feeling a strange cramping sensation in her lower back. She wrote it off as another "joy" of impending motherhood and headed out to meet Grissom.

* * *

"Did you get all of that?" 

Sara finished scribbling on the clipboard that rested on her stomach. "I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"Right. Shorthand." Grissom smiled in apology. "Let's keep going."

It was as she followed him into the master bedroom where the second victim lay in a pool of blood that the strange ache returned. It wasn't anything heavier than what she always felt on the first day of her period, but it was enough for her to take notice.

"Sara?" Grissom had stopped and was looking back at her. "I know you'd rather be collecting, but don't space out me just yet."

She plastered a smile on her face. "Sorry. I'll try to be grateful that I'm not stuck in the lab."

The body lay face down at the foot of the bed. Grissom approached the man and knelt down, carefully avoiding the crimson puddle around his head. "Single shot to the base of the skull. Execution style. My guess…he was the primary target."

As she wrote it all down, Sara discreetly arched her back a bit, trying to relieve the annoying ache. "The wife in the hallway was just collateral damage?"

"Shot in the back trying to escape." Grissom shook his head. "Wrong place, wrong time."

"There's never a good time to witness a hit." The ache was becoming a pain. Literally

"True," he mused. Something in the blood pool caught his eye. "And when you're bending down to make sure your target is dead, it's definitely not a good time to shed a hair." With the tweezers in his vest, he plucked a single strand from the congealed surface. He grinned. "Skin tag, too. Our lucky day."

"That'll help." Sara inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, willing the ache away. "I'll bag it."

"It's all right. I've got it." When he was done, Grissom looked back at her. "Feel like taking some pictures?"

The pain was fading. Mind over matter. She tucked her clipboard under her arm and lifted the camera that hung around her neck. "You'll have to say 'cheese' for him."

* * *

They finished walking the perimeter two hours later. There had only been three other episodes of the pain resurfacing. But they were coming closer together. Sara wasn't so far into denial that she didn't realize what it all meant. 

But it was too early. It wasn't supposed to happen for another month.

While Grissom was busy stowing his kit and the collected evidence in the back of the Denali, Sara leaned against the hood, breathing heavily. "Don't do this, baby," she whispered to her stomach. "You're not done yet."

She heard the back doors slam shut and managed to compose herself just as Grissom came around to her side of the car. "Ready to go?"

Sara nodded a little too vigorously. Grissom opened the passenger door for her and offered her his hand to help her up into her seat. It was probably hormones, but the gesture was so sweet that she felt hot tears collecting in the corners of her eyes. Or maybe it was just fear.

In the few seconds it took him to walk around to the driver's side, another contraction began.

* * *

Taking his eyes off the dark road, Grissom glanced over at Sara. She'd been unusually quiet ever since they'd left the scene. She hadn't even complained when he'd chosen talk radio over music. Usually he just gave in and suffered through the Top 40. 

"So what's your opinion on the government phone-tapping without sufficient warrants?" Grissom asked her.

Sara's eyes were closed; her head rested against the cool glass of the window. "I didn't vote for the guy behind it. But I'm not above a good 'I told you so' to the people who did." The last word was followed by a sharp intake of breath.

"Sara?" His stare alternated rapidly between the road and her. "What's wrong?"

She had one hand pressed tightly against her belly. "I don't want to be bother, but I think I'm in labor."

It was a good thing he had decent reflexes or he might have put the Denali into a ditch. Grissom gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "But…isn't it too early?"

Sara glared at him. "You think?"

"We have to get you to the hospital!"

"Again…" Her muscles tightened as the pain grew. "Desert Palm's the…closest."

Grissom was already making the necessary U-turn.

* * *

"Why aren't you doing the breathing" 

Sara chest rose and fell. "What…the hell do you…call this?"

Grissom's hand trembled as he adjusted his glasses. They were ten minutes from the hospital, and Sara seemed to be getting more stressed by the minute.

"The Lamaze," he said. "Two short breaths, followed by long one. You should be doing it. It helps calm you."

"How do you…know that?"

He cleared his throat. "Catherine?"

"Nice try." Sara's forehead was beaded with perspiration. "Catherine told me…she said to hell with Lamaze and went…with the natural method of…screaming and cursing."

"That does sound like her." Grissom sighed. "All right. I might have sat in on a class."

"You…went to a Lamaze class?"

It was his turn to give her a look. "Greg told me it was a great place to meet women."

"That would be really funny if this didn't hurt so fucking much."

"I just wanted to know what you were going through." Turning onto the street that led to the hospital, he added, "Remember, you admire my thirst for knowledge. So…" Grissom demonstrated the breathing technique. "Hee, hee, hoo. Hee, hee, hoo."

Sara chimed in reluctantly. She was even more reluctant to admit that within mere moments, she felt calmer. But was it the Lamaze? Or was it the presence of the only man in her life who would put himself through a class in it, just to better understand her?

The next contraction wiped away everything else. "Grissom…step on it. Please."

* * *

As he screeched into the emergency bay of Desert Palm's ER a little after two a.m., one thought kept running through his mind. He never should have done this. He should have taken the case by himself and kept her safe in the lab. If he hadn't been so selfish as to want her company, the trauma of the scene wouldn't have sent her into premature labor. 

This was entirely his fault.

Leaving the keys in the ignition, Grissom threw open the door, ran around to Sara's side, and yelled at the nurses, all of whom were apparently taking a smoking break right when he needed them.

"We need some help over here!"

* * *

To Be Continued 


	10. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: My posts might start to slow down because I'm starting a new job. But I promise not to abandon the story;) Thanks for reading and enjoy! By the way, does anyone know what's up with YTDAW?

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

It was a slow morning on the maternity ward with only four women currently in labor, exactly the sort of night Nurse Barbara Hinman enjoyed. There was more time to spend with each patient which resulted in more trust between the mother-to-be and her caregivers and an easier birth for the baby. But more than that, Barbara loved to watch a happy couple bring their child into the world. The joy of becoming a parent was a universal experience, but always different for each new mother and father.

But that night, it was the couple in the second room down the hall who intrigued her the most. Mother in her mid-thirties, on her first child. A career woman who had heard her biological clock ticking. Nothing wrong with that. But the man who'd been with her since she was first brought up from the ER…there was a cookie of a different flavor. Fifty if he was a day. Articulate and polite, but clearly uncomfortable with the entire situation. And even, Barbara suspected, with the woman. There was a bond there. But also an invisible wall of strained formality.

You learned a lot about people after three decades in healthcare.

So when she glanced up from her notes and saw the man stumble out into the hallway, looking like a refugee who had just realized he had no place to call home, she had a pretty good idea of what had happened.

"Mr. Grissom." He looked in her general direction, but his eyes didn't quite focus on her. She set down her pen and came out from around the nurse's station. "Is everything all right?"

"She…wanted to be alone."

Barbara tried not to smile. She had seen this a thousand times. "Well, what you have to remember is that as much as this is a wonderful experience, it's also a very stressful and painful one."

The man's Adam apple bobbed. "I should go. If it's what she wants…I don't want to add to her stress."

"You know, in thirty years, I've never seen a man kicked out of one of these rooms who wasn't almost immediately called back. I'd suggest finding a cup of coffee and waiting." She patted his arm. "C'mon. I'll show you where we keep the good stuff."

* * *

Thinking that she'd feel better once Grissom was gone had been a flawed hypothesis. If not for the pain, the constant reminder that in a few hours, she'd be someone's mother, Sara would felt nothing but horribly alone from the second the door had closed behind him.

But she was a stubborn woman. It was a trait that had served her well in some areas of her life, and seriously debilitated her in others. He was gone and she was going to do this on her own. And maybe it was better that way.

"From now on…" she whispered to her belly. "…it's just you and me. I swear, I will be ten…no, a hundred times the parent for you that either of mine were to me. There will be stories in our house. And science projects and…and we'll eat dinner together, every night. There will be no fists…no weekly trips to the hospital…and I will love whoever you turn out to be."

Frustrated tears leaked out the corners of her eyes. "But all of this depends upon you coming out!"

She was still fighting her tears when a new nurse, one who had just come on duty, came into her room to check her vitals, as well as the baby's. As the woman studied the readouts from the machine that tracked the baby's heart rate, she let out a small and disturbing, "Oh, dear."

Cold fear replaced Sara's anxiety. "What's wrong?"

The nurse tried to give her a calm smile. "It's probably nothing." She paused. "I'll be right back with the doctor."

The few minutes she was gone stretched like years. And the only thing Sara wanted to hear, besides the doctor telling her everything would be all right, was Grissom's voice saying the same.

"Your baby's heart rate has significantly decreased. There's a possibility that it's becoming stressed," the doctor told her after he'd examined the same readouts. "Now that alone doesn't necessarily warrant immediate, aggressive action. But you're still at only eight centimeters. In the time it will take you to dilate to ten, the stress could get to a dangerous point. And with the baby being four weeks premature, I'd like to go ahead and prepare you for a C-section. Just to be on the safe side."

When the nurse asked Sara if there was anything she could do to make her more comfortable, she had only one request. "I want Grissom."

* * *

In the short amount of time since Barbara had left him to his thoughts, Grissom had gone through about half a pot of coffee, but felt no better.

As he poured his fourth cup, he wondered again if he should just leave. Despite what the nurse had claimed, he'd received no summons back to Sara's side. What was true for most women didn't always apply to the woman he loved. Wasn't that what had attracted him in the first place? Of course, if he had known that ten years after joining that fresh-faced college girl for a cup of coffee, he'd be sitting in a hospital waiting for her to give birth to a child that wasn't even his, he might have just kept packing his briefcase and politely declined.

But then he would have missed out on ten years of knowing Sara Sidle. As Grissom sipped the scalding liquid, he tried to imagine those years sans Sara. He couldn't do it. All that was coming to mind were bleak images of endless, routine days. No endearing smiles when he entered a room, no one who could name the source of most of his quotes, no one who paid attention to him with quite so much enthusiasm.

No one who made him wonder if his life was really as rewarding as he liked to pretend it was.

Grissom drained the cup and stood. But just as he resolved to leave, as Sara had requested, Barbara ran into the room, her ample chest heaving with exertion.

"Mr. Grissom," she panted. "Sara needs you."

* * *

"Hi, Sara. I'm Dr. Evans. I'm going to be your anesthesiologist today." The woman smiled down at Sara. "What we're going to do is very simple. We're going to give you an epidural. It'll numb you from your ribs all the way down to your toes. You won't feel anything more than some odd pressure during the procedure."

Her words sounded muffled, like she was underwater. Sara closed her eyes. It was all happening so fast.

"Sara?" The doctor's concerned voice forced her to open her eyes again. "Do you understand all of this?" She waited for Sara to nod before continuing, "You and your baby will be just fine, I promise."

It wasn't. Panic was already bubbling to the surface though the calm veneer of Sara's initial shock. She was surrounded by unrecognizable faces, blurry through a hot film of tears. There wasn't a single person to whom she could turn for true comfort.

She clenched her hands into twin fists and squeezed her eyes shut as the nurses rolled her over onto her side to start the epidural. The pain came, sharp and sudden. Despite her best efforts, Sara let out a small cry.

A warm hand covered her fist. "Relax, honey" a familiar voice told her. When took a peek through her lashes, she saw blue eyes watching her from just over a face mask.

"Grissom?"

Kneeling next to her, his other hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind her surgical cap. "It's going to be all right, Sara."

She shook her head as much as she could. "No. No, it's not." Crying openly now, she went on, "What am I doing, thinking I'm fit to be a mother? Look at the role model I had…but what if I can't do any better than she did? I mean, sometimes I can't even take care of myself." She wasn't making much sense, but she kept going. "I'm going to mess up, Grissom. I just know it. Don't try to tell me I won't, because I mess everything up eventually."

"Of course you're going to mess up," he said. "What happened the first time you tried to use fingerprint dust?" He answered for her a second later, "You told me you got so much of it up your nose that you were sneezing for a week. Now, no one can lay down as light and perfect a layer as you can." Grissom shrugged. "You learn, Sara. We all do."

The doctor cleared her throat. "Okay, we're done." She looked at Grissom. "Will you be staying?"

He glanced at Sara. "Will I be staying?"

After a moment, she relaxed her fingers enough to entwine them with his and nodded.

* * *

He held her hand through it all. Sara was surprised, and oddly pleased, that his palm was sweaty. At one point, his forehead touched hers and she allowed herself to imagine that he was here as more than just a friend. That his nervous anticipation was due to impending fatherhood. It was a daydream in which she'd often indulged.

On the other side of the sheet that hung suspending in the air, transecting her body, the doctors worked to bring her baby into the world. The child's first strangled cry was like music.

"It's a boy!" a doctor announced.

And just like that, Grissom was no longer the only man in her life. He seemed to realize this, because somewhere in the ocean depths of his eyes there was sadness. He covered it well; the smile he gave her lit up his entire face.

The wailing infant was placed in her arms after being cleaned, measured and examined. Every speck of worry, every inch of self-doubt vanished. He was so small, but so perfect. Ten toes, ten fingers, a button nose, with a tuft of dark brown hair.

Sara's cheeks were wet as she kissed her son's soft head. She had no words; the power of the moment had taken them away, too.

Fortunately, Grissom could always be counted on. He pulled down his face mask. "'Before you were conceived, I wanted you; before you were born, I loved you; before you were here an hour, I would die for you. This is the miracle of life.'" His lips touched Sara's brow. "Maureen Hawkins."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	11. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I'm so glad everyone seemed to enjoy the last chapter. Hope at least a few people enjoy this one, too;) Thanks! Until next time...

* * *

The Invisible Man

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Catherine found the man she was looking for in the last place she would have looked for him. At least on any other day in the entire time she had known him.

Grissom stood at the glass window that looked into Desert Palm's nursery. His hair was unkempt and he was still in the clothes she'd last seen on him at assignments the night before. And he was so focused that it took him a full two minutes to notice her standing right next to him.

"Hey," she said when he finally glanced at her. "Heard you had an exciting night."

He pointed at one bassinet. "A boy. Five pounds, eight ounces, seventeen inches."

Catherine squinted to read the name tag. "Sidle, Jacob G." She smiled. "I don't even have to ask what the 'G' stands for, do I?"

He didn't seem to hear her. "Catherine, it was beyond words."

"I know." She tore her eyes away from the sleeping infant. "How's Sara?"

"Tired. She's sleeping."

"C-section recovery is a bitch," Catherine noted. "Glad I didn't have to do it that way."

Grissom touched the glass, as though he could reach right through it to the baby. "He looks so much like her, don't you think?" He paused. "He's beautiful."

She hooked her arm through his. "Yeah." Catherine allowed him another few minutes of wonder before she leaned into him. "Grissom, what happened to the evidence from your scene last night?"

The blood literally drained from his face. "It's…in the backseat of my car."

"Locked?"

He looked offended. "Of course."

"Give me your keys. I'll take it to the lab and log it in before Ecklie's shit hits the fan. But you get to write up the incident report on it. I don't do extra paperwork, even for you."

Grissom shook his head. "I wasn't thinking."

"Yes, you were. Just not about the job." Catherine patted his arm. "It's about damn time."

Sara's son woke just then. He opened his eyes and blinked, as if testing them out. Grissom swallowed. "His eyes are blue."

She was tempted to remind him most all newborns had blue eyes until they changed into their permanent color. But she held her tongue and let him have his moment.

* * *

Sara woke to a nurse gently calling her name. "Sara…time to wake up." The nurse held tiny Jacob in her arms. "This little guy is hungry."

It was one thing to read about breastfeeding in a book and quite another to actually attempt it. But after several frustrating tries, Jacob finally got the hang of it.

She looked down at her baby as he took his important first feeding. Nothing she'd read had adequately prepared her for the emotion of the event. She'd seen dozens of DNA profiles between parents and children, but until the moment she'd first held her own, she hadn't understood that the bond went beyond simple genetics. It was too complex to be explained by the science in which she'd always trusted to explain everything.

When she blinked, her tears spilled over. The nurse gently blotted them away with a tissue. "I haven't ever seen a new momma get through this with dry eyes."

Sara shook her head as the tears kept flowing. "I just…I was afraid that I wouldn't feel it."

"Feel what, baby?"

"This whole maternal…thing." She stroked a finger down Jacob's cheek. "I didn't know if I was wired that way."

The nurse patted her shoulder. "I think you're gonna be just…"

A knock on the door interrupted her. Before either woman could call out a warning, Grissom entered the room, carrying a single balloon. It hit the ceiling a second later when it slipped out of his hand as he froze and stared at her exposed bosom in complete shock.

* * *

"OhSaraIdidn'tknowI'msorryIneverwouldhave…" When he'd regained control of his runaway tongue, Grissom closed his eyes and whipped around to face the wall.

"Lordy," the nurse said. "I forgot to hang the nursing momma sign on your door. Sara, I'm so sorry."

Grissom heard cloth rustling. "It's okay," Sara said. "He would have seen a lot more if I'd delivered naturally."

He stared at the wall, breathing in and out until his pulse evened. How many bare breasts had he seen in his lifetime? In his career? Hundreds, thousands? They were just flesh. They served a biological purpose. Out of a sexual context, they weren't even stimulating to him anymore.

So why was seeing Sara's affecting him like this? Shame washed over him as much as arousal had a minute ago. She was a mother now. He couldn't think of her like that. It was just plain wrong.

But the image of her feeding her child like a Mother Goddess would stay with him forever.

"Grissom," she called out to him. "Everything's covered now."

He tentatively turned around and relaxed when he saw her hospital gown back in place. Jacob was already asleep against Sara's chest. At least her face was as red as his; it wouldn't be right to be the only thoroughly mortified person in the room.

"I should have waited to be invited in," Grissom apologized. "I'll go if…"

"If you go now, you'll never look me in the eye again." Sara motioned him over. "I'm on just enough pain medication to be candid about this. Can you pretend to do the same?"

He nodded as he sat in the chair pulled up next to her bed. "I can pretend."

"Good."

The nurse shook her head at both of them. "I'll be back for Jacob in awhile. You…" She pointed an accusing finger at Grissom. "Don't go wearing this girl out."

Grissom gazed locked onto Sara's. "I'll take care of her."

When she was gone, the uncomfortable silence set in. Sara sighed after several painfully long minutes. "You said you'd pretend!"

He cleared his throat. "I'll try harder." Noticing the leftover moisture on her cheeks, Grissom frowned. "Have you been crying?"

"Oh…um…" She bit her lip. "Hormones." Looking around for a distraction, the first thing she saw was her baby. "You know...you haven't held him yet."

His panic was instantaneous. "I'm not good with babies."

"Just think of him as a really big bug." She lifted her arms, offering him the infant.

Grissom wiped his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants. "How do I…" He didn't get a chance to finish the thought; his hands acted on their own, reaching out and taking the child from his mother.

Five pounds of flesh had never seemed so fragile. In the transfer process, Jacob woke up, fixing his milky-blue eyes on the man above him. Grissom cradled Jacob's head in his hand as he shifted him into a more comfortable position in the crook of his arm. It must have been the right thing to do; the little boy closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

"You're a natural." Something in Sara's voice made him look up at her. Her hormones must have been off the chart because she was crying again.

He had no idea what to say to stop her tears. That was always his problem. The words never came to him at the right time. They always came later when he was at home, by himself, replaying his exchanges with her. Only then did he say everything he wanted her to hear, in perfect prose.

"Knock, knock!" Right at that moment, Nick entered the room. He looked as though he had come straight from the airport. One hand covered his eyes, the other stretched out in front of him, feeling for walls and other hindrances. "Everyone decent?"

"If you count this fabulous sequined nightgown I'm wearing as decent," Sara quipped, brushing away her tears. She was smiling now, and Grissom felt a stab of jealousy. Nick had the power to make her smile with his words, and all he ever seemed to do was make her cry.

Nick uncovered his eyes and approached Sara's bed. "So, I leave town for three days for my cousin's wedding, and you go and have the baby?" He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Is Vegas that boring without me around?"

"Well, my cable went out…" She glanced at her son. "Nick, I'd like you to meet Jacob."

Grissom knew that he was supposed to hand the baby over to his younger colleague. But he just plain didn't want to. The warmth from the child's little body had seeped straight into his heart and he didn't want to let go of that. Ever.

Still, he had to play nice and so he let Nick take the baby from him. But it he did it with great reluctance.

"Hey there, partner. We've been waiting for you for a long time," Nick said, lifting Jacob to his shoulder. "And don't you look just like your momma?"

Sara laughed. "Oh please…don't curse my kid, Nicky."

He gave her a look. "So, Gris, I hear you witnessed the whole thing."

"I did." Grissom folded his arms over his chest. "It was…an unparalleled first-hand experience in human biology."

Sara's smile faltered. Nick's gaze jumped back and forth between the two of them as he gently rubbed Jacob's back. Grissom avoided his eyes. He didn't need to see accusation there; he was already feeling guilty enough. Why were words always his enemy in one way or another?

He lifted himself out of his seat. "It's been awhile since I showered. I should go."

"When will you be coming back?" Sara's question was spoken so softly he almost didn't hear it.

"I probably should stop by the lab to get the ball rolling on the case from last night." Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets. "I don't know."

"Okay. Well…" Sara's chin dipped. "Thank you for being with me. I couldn't have gotten through this…experience in human biology without you."

He hesitated for a second. But the right words just wouldn't come. "Bye."

As he reached the door, he heard Nick ask, "What's wrong? Sara?"

"I think…" Her words were shaky. "…the pain meds are wearing off."

It took every bit of his willpower to leave the room.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	12. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: I'm loving my new job, but it does distract from the writing time. Updates might be slower, but I hope they're still as enjoyable. Thanks for all the kind reviews. Until next time, ciao!

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

With Nick's help, Sara took Jacob home three days after he was born. But when she stepped into the apartment, something didn't seem quite right. 

"Nick," she asked, confused. "Have you ever heard of an intruder who breaks in just to leave flowers?"

Blue hydrangeas dotted her living room, fresh and beautiful. It was like someone had planted a garden while she was in the hospital. But who could have…who would have done something so oddly wonderful for her?

There was a sudden crash down the hall. "Sara…" Nick handed her the baby carrier and pulled his service weapon out of its holster. "Stay back."

Her first instinct was to gather her baby as close to her as possible. As Nick tentatively moved towards the source of the noise, Sara lifted Jacob out of his seat, ignoring the dull throbbing from her incision.

A moment after Nick disappeared into the nursery, she heard him swear sharply. "Grissom! What the hell! I could've shot you!"

Instead of relaxing, Sara's shoulders immediately tensed up.

The men came back out into the living room, Nick looking pissed and Grissom looking guilty. "I'm sorry," he apologized, setting down a pot of the beautiful blue flowers. "I thought I'd be gone before you arrived."

He hadn't wanted to stick around to see her. Sara tried to ignore the hurt stemming from that knowledge. "You did this?" She shook her head. "How?"

"There's a spare set of keys in your locker, right?" Grissom slipped his hands into his pockets. "And…um…I have a master key to the lockers."

With the 'how' answered, Sara's next question was, "Why?"

"I…" He glanced at Nick's lingering scowl. "I just thought…" Grissom stopped with a sigh. "I didn't mean to upset you, Sara."

"You haven't. I was just surprised." Sara gave him a tiny smile. "The flowers are beautiful."

He looked down at the floor. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore. And a little tired," Sara admitted. "But glad to be home." She touched her cheek the blue cap covering Jacob's head. "With him."

Nick took the hint. "Well, I should get some dinner before shift starts." He kissed Sara's forehead and tickled the bottom of the baby's foot. "Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you, Nick," she called over her shoulder as he stepped out of the apartment.

Grissom, on the other hand, didn't even know a hint had been dropped. "I took the liberty of picking up some groceries. Your milk had expired. Can I get you anything?"

"Grissom…" Sara winced as she shifted Jacob to her other shoulder. "What are you doing? You broke into my locker in order to break into my house, just to stock my fridge and deliver flowers?" She went on before he could answer. "Just…give me an honest answer. Please."

"I wanted to make Jacob's homecoming memorable."

She considered this for a moment. "Mission accomplished." Her eyes twinkled. "But don't hold it against him if he doesn't remember it himself."

"That's why I picked up this." From the inside pocket of his jacket, Grissom withdrew a disposable camera.

"Oh god…no! Grissom! I look horrible! I haven't had a real shower in days and…and there are huge dark circles under my eyes and…"

"You look amazing."

His simple statement hung in the air between them. Sara blinked several times. "I guess one picture can't hurt. For the baby book at least."

Grissom raised the camera. "So…um…say cheese?"

He snapped the picture a second later, already knowing it would be a favorite of his for life.

When he lowered the camera again, he noticed Sara discreetly shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and he suddenly remembered the surgical wound from which she was recovering. "Honey, you should be in bed, resting."

She didn't want to admit that he was right. "I need to feed him first."

"Tell you what. You feed him and I'll draw you a bath. Can you get your stitches wet?"

"Yeah. They're…that sticky strip stuff." Sara licked her lips. "Grissom…you don't have to…"

"Sara. Let me do this for you."

She gave up the fight. "Okay. I'll be in the nursery."

Truth be told, Grissom had no idea what he was doing. But it felt right. For the first time in a long time, he felt needed. And he didn't feel trapped or distracted or pressured or any of the things he'd always been afraid he'd feel if he let Sara into his life.

Because it wasn't a matter of him letting her in anymore. As he passed by the nursery twenty minutes later and found her asleep in the rocking chair with Jacob in her arms, he realized something.

Now, it would be a matter of Sara allowing him into her life.

* * *

It was frightening how easily she slipped into the routine of being a mother. True, sleep became a thing of the past and she only found the time to eat because it was necessary in order to keep her body functioning as a milk station, but it was all worthwhile when Jacob wrapped his tiny fingers around hers and held on tight. 

What frightened her even more was how dependent she was becoming upon Grissom. It had become a regular thing for him to spend at least a few hours a day at her place, helping her with various things such as fixing the mobile over Jacob's crib when it stopped rotating and cooking her dinner when she was too exhausted to even work a can opener.

She both loved it and hated it. Loved it because it was a dream come true. Almost as if they were a real, little family. Hated it because it wouldn't last. Every day, Sara woke up wondering if it would be the day Grissom got spooked by the impending threat of domestic bliss.

Whatever was going to happen eventually would. For the time being, Sara was determined to enjoy it while it lasted.

One night, two weeks after Jacob was born, Grissom arrived just as she was putting Jacob in his crib. Not that he would stay down for long; he wasn't a fussy baby, but it would only be a little while until he would need to be fed again.

He let himself in; her spare key had found a permanent home on his key chain. "Sara," she heard him call out. "I brought dinner."

She left the nursery door open a crack and came out to greet him. Because she couldn't shake the habit of doing so, Sara told him, "You didn't have to do that."

Grissom withdrew take out boxes of spaghetti and salad from a bag. "What have you eaten today?"

"I drank two big glasses of milk," she informed him, defensively. "They helped wash down the Twinkies."

He gave her a look over the rims of his glasses and handed her a fork. "Eat up."

She wanted to remind him that she was a grown woman, a mother, even, but the sudden growl from her stomach would have undermined any protesting on her part.

They ate in comfortable silence. That was something new. Well, not new…years ago it had been normal. But in the past few years, silence between them had been excruciating. Jacob had changed all of that. Grissom seemed almost eager to be around her and happy when he was there. She wasn't quite sure how her child with an anonymous sperm donor could have that effect on him, but again, she wasn't about to question it, lest she make it go away.

Sara was feeling good. The pasta was excellent. There hadn't been so much as a whimper through the baby monitor. Her incision was rapidly healing. And Grissom was wearing a blue shirt that brought out his eyes. All of that together explained why she let her guard down and broached a subject that had been weighing heavily on her mind.

"So," she began. "I've started planning Jacob's baptism."

Grissom coughed. "You have?"

She frowned. "Why does that surprise you?"

"It's just…I never think of you as being particularly religious." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Sara lifted a shoulder. "Don't be. I'm not. But I believe we have souls. So there must be something beyond this life. If a little water on his head and some words spoken by a minister really do matter in the end, I don't want to have denied my son eternal peace just because I have questions about all of it."

He watched for a moment, something akin to wonder written on his face. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on her part. Whatever it was, it quickly faded when Sara went on. "I'd still like you to be his godfather."

Grissom set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. "And I'm still honored by that. But…"

She cut him off. "I said I'd like you to be his godfather. But I think I understand why you're going to tell me that you can't." He waited for her to continue. "Don't you think I know that the way I did all of this wasn't exactly…normal? I have a newborn child, but I haven't had sex in well over three years."

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I realize that you might have a hard time respecting me for the somewhat radical choice that I made nine months ago." Sara tucked her hands into her lap to hide the fact that they were shaking. "But please don't punish Jacob for his mother's…desperation."

"Sara, I…"

Sara interrupted him again. "And if you can't be a part of his life like this, maybe you shouldn't come around so much. He already recognizes you as much as he does me. I don't want him to…" She stopped.

"To what?" Grissom asked softly.

She locked stares with him. "Miss you." There was a pause. "I'm his mother. It's my job to keep him from getting hurt."

He was spared having to formulate a response by a sudden onslaught of cries filtering through the baby monitor.

Sara stood up. "After I calm him down, I'll probably try to get some sleep."

She wasn't directly kicking him out, but he got the message. "Um…" Grissom swallowed heavily. "I'll clean up and…see myself out."

"Grissom." Sara paused at the entrance into the hallway and looked back at him. "The fifth of next month. All Saints Episcopal. Whatever else, I'd like it if you were there."

When she came back into the living room a half hour later, it was spotless. Like he'd never even been there. Sara curled up on the couch and fell asleep before the tears caught up with her.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	13. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the continued feedback. It really keeps my momentum going:) I appreciate all of it. Enjoy the new chapter!

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

It wasn't unusual for Grissom to be woken from a deep sleep by his cell phone. He was so used to it, in fact, that he didn't even have to turn on the light or feel around for the ringing device; his hand just automatically went to it. 

"Grissom," he mumbled sleepily.

"Oh, god…I woke you up."

Sara's watery voice had him awake and sitting up in the space of a heartbeat. "Sara?"

"I'm so sorry," she cried. She wasn't the only one; in the background, he could hear a very unhappy baby. "I thought you'd be at work. I wouldn't have called if…"

He cut her off. "Sara, what's wrong?"

"Jacob's sick."

Grissom didn't need to hear anything else. "I'll be right there."

* * *

He pulled into her apartment complex ten minutes later, having only paused long enough to pull on an old pair of jeans. Running his hand down his untrimmed beard, Grissom jumped out of his car. 

Jacob's screams were audible from the parking lot. As he passed by, one of her neighbors stuck his head out into the hall. "For god's sake! It's three in the fucking morning!" the pot-bellied man cursed. "Somebody shut up that goddamn kid or I will!"

Grissom stopped and turned, his chest rising and falling with each breath. "You'll find that extremely difficult to do with your balls halfway down your throat."

The man's eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed. "Whatever," he muttered before slamming his door shut.

Grissom let himself into Sara's apartment and for a moment, he almost wished he still experienced occasional hearing loss. Jacob had a serious set of lungs that he had probably inherited from his mother, and he was doing his very best to test their limits. "Sara?"

She came out from the hallway with Jacob propped against her shoulder. "His fever's gone up. I called his doctor," she said, skipping any sort of greeting. "She says he should be taken to the ER."

"Okay…" Grissom studied her. She was shaky and there was fear for her baby's safety written all over her face. He didn't even want to think about how long it might have been since she bothered to feed herself or close her eyes for a moment of sleep. She needed his help and he knew, deep down, that it was the only reason she had called.

Still, she had called him, not Catherine or Greg or Nick.

He cleared his throat. "I'll drive."

* * *

"Sara Sidle?" 

Grissom opened his eyes. There was a strange warmth alongside his body. Sara. Suddenly, he remembered taking a seat in the ER waiting room…urging her to try and catch some sleep…offering his shoulder as a pillow…dozing off to the fragrant scent from her hair. Somehow as they slept, his arm had circled her, pressing her close against his chest.

Now, a doctor was calling her name. "Sara Sidle?" he repeated, scanning the myriad of faces waiting for news of their loved ones.

"Sara." Grissom nudged her gently. She let out a moan of protest. "Honey…the doctor's here."

Startled awake by this, Sara sat up with a huge gasp. She looked around for a second before settling an accusing glare on him. "I fell asleep! You let me fall asleep!"

He blinked. "I…"

She launched herself at the doctor. "My baby…" she started, frantic for news.

"Is going to be fine," the doctor assured her. "He has an ear infection. His first, I take it?" Sara nodded tightly. "Well, the first one can certainly scare new parents. We've given him some ear drops, and his fever's broken."

Grissom came up behind Sara; she sagged back against him in utter relief. "Oh, thank you." She covered her mouth with both her hands. "Thank you."

The doctor nodded. "He's sleeping, but you can go back to see him now. The nurses will have his paperwork ready soon."

When the man was gone, Sara turned to face Grissom. "He's going to be okay."

"I never doubted it."

She sniffed. "Will you come with me?"

He was unable to keep himself from brushing a tear off her cheek. "Just try to stop me."

* * *

By the time they reached Jacob, he had woken up. The strange environment and the medicine that had been put in his ears had frightened him; he was whimpering and flailing his little fists in the air. 

"Sweetheart…baby, it's okay. Mommy's here." She lifted Jacob up and out, cradling him against her shoulder. Grissom stood back several feet, a silent observer to the tender mother and child moment. "I should have been here with him," Sara whispered.

"You know they wouldn't let you," he replied. "I practically dragged you into the waiting room."

"He's my whole life, Grissom." Sara closed her eyes. "I can't ever lose him."

"You heard the doctor. He's going to be just fine. He's strong." He wanted to remind her where Jacob got that strength, but he didn't have a chance to form the words.

"I've lost everyone," Sara went on. "My father, my mother, my brother…" Her wet lashes lifted and he found himself staring into liquid chocolate pools. "You."

"You have not lost me." The statement started out as a whisper, but quickly picked up intensity. "Sara! Do you hear me?" Grissom reached for her, grasping her arms. He wanted to shake her, to make her understand, but she was holding Jacob. There was only one other way to get his point across.

She didn't kiss him back at first, and he tried not to take it the wrong way. He'd caught her off guard, after all. Truth be told, he'd caught himself off guard. Through all the years he'd known her, there had to have been at least a hundred better opportunities, more romantic moments that he could have chosen for their first kiss.

What made this one different? He had no idea. But when her tongue tentatively brushed against his, Grissom knew he hadn't made another mistake. He relaxed into the kiss he had initiated, his hand moving up to cup the back of her head.

Their lips parted too soon for either of their liking. Grissom stepped back reluctantly, giving them both space to catch their breath. Just when he couldn't take it anymore, and was about to reach for her again, Jacob let out a little whine, reminding them that he was still there, a tiny, but powerful barrier between them.

The nurse returned right then with a clipboard. "Ms. Sidle, here's Jacob's discharge papers. You'll just need to sign them here and here."

Grissom reached for Jacob. "I've got him." There was no stranger anxiety; Jacob seemed as much at ease in Grissom's arms as he was in his mother's. Grissom offered the baby his finger; Jacob immediately wrapped his entire little hand around it.

Sara briefly touched her lips before reaching for the clipboard. She scribbled her name in the appropriate places and handed it back to the nurse who in turn gave her the written prescription from the doctor. As the nurse ran down a list of instructions for Jacob's continuing care, Grissom could feel Sara's eyes on him.

He wanted to know what was going through her mind. Did she have regrets? To his great surprise, he didn't. In fact, he wanted to do it again. Except this time, he'd do it right. Not in a hospital and definitely not with a sick child pressed between them.

The child in question squirmed in his arms. "I think this little guy is ready to get home."

Sara blinked out of her stare. "Yeah. So am I."

* * *

When Sara came out of the nursery, the sun had risen over Las Vegas. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was going a million miles per minute. 

He was still there, waiting for her with tea. It was another of her silly fantasies come to life. But maybe it could be more than that. The man in her kitchen…the man she'd tried so hard to get over…he'd kissed her. And he hadn't run away. It was the most hope she'd had to cling to in a long time.

Sara combed her fingers through her hair and approached him. "Hi."

Turning, Grissom handed her a steaming mug. "How is he?"

"Fed and asleep." She took a sip. The liquid burned her tongue, but couldn't wash away the lingering taste of his lips. "Could I have done this to him? All the books say you have to hold them upright while breast-feeding to avoid ear infections. Maybe I screwed up…allowed this to happen."

"Sara." Grissom shook his head. "Don't do that." He drew in a breath. "About what happened earlier…"

She wasn't quite ready yet. "Grissom, I can't even begin to thank you for everything you did tonight. It was above and beyond the call of…"

His ticked-off tone startled her. "I'm a little tired of being thanked like I'm going out of my way or something. That child in there…I care about him as much as if he were…" Grissom stopped. "Sara, why do we have to make this so difficult?"

"Because it's easier?"

"Easier? How?"

"If we make it difficult…" She shrugged. "…we won't actually have to deal with it."

"Well, that's not good enough for me anymore." Grissom took her mug from her. "Sara, I kissed you tonight because I couldn't not kiss you anymore."

She swallowed. "Please don't tell me that, Grissom."

He frowned. "Why?"

Sara stepped towards him. "If you encourage me like that, I don't know that I'll be able to stop myself."

Grissom moved forward a step. "From what?"

They were close enough now that Sara could reach out and touch a place on his shirt where Jacob had marked him with a bit of spit-up. "I had a baby…and I never got to do the fun stuff that's supposed to precede that. My choice, sure. But it's been a long time, Grissom. Encourage me in the slightest, and you might find yourself flat on your back with a mother straddling you."

"That would be a first," he admitted. He took her hand and brought her palm up to his mouth. "But I'm willing to risk it."

"Don't tease me," she implored him, her voice throaty. "I swear, Grissom…if you're going to wake up tomorrow morning and wish this hadn't happened…"

Grissom kissed his way to her wrist. "What if you're the one who wakes up with regrets?"

"Couldn't happen," Sara whispered. "Trust me."

He looked up. "Are you sure about…"

She cut him off by yanking her arm away and seizing his lips with hers. "Please…" she begged him between kisses. "I need you, Grissom…please." As if to prove herself, she reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head, baring herself from the waist up.

"God…Sara." His hands sought out her soft flesh on their own. "Can you even…do this? I mean…is it too soon?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine…" Sara tugged at the button on his jeans. "I told you not to encourage me…"

Grissom stilled her hands. "If we're doing this, we're doing this right." She gave him a puzzled look, her cheeks flushed. "I want to take you to bed, Sara."

She smiled, surprised at the lump that rose in her throat. "Take me to bed, Grissom."

"And when we're there…" He smoothed hair back from her face. "I want you to say my name. My real name."

Sara nodded. "I will."

He didn't carry her down the hall, but when they slipped between her sheets, Sara had never felt more feminine. He covered her body with his and filled her with hard heat. His name was on her lips the whole time.

Even afterwards, it was still there. "Gil," she murmured into his neck. "I wish Jacob was ours."

But he was already asleep and heard nothing.

* * *

To Be Continued 


	14. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the wondeful reviews, everyone. As promised, I multi-tasked another chapter;) I hope everyone enjoys it. 'Til next time!

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

Waking up in a strange bed had always thrown him off. But never in all of his fifty years, had Grissom woken to the sound of a baby crying. 

Sara's hair was spread out across his pillow; his cheek lay on the soft locks. Her warm, bare back rested against his chest. As they slept, she'd drawn his arm around her and entwined their fingers together at her breast.

As far as he could remember, it had been the best sleep of his life.

Grissom dropped a kiss on her shoulder and extracted his hand from hers. Before Jacob's cries could wake her, he crept out of bed and pulled on his boxers. He closed the door to Sara's room behind him and started down the hall.

Jacob lay in his crib, pouring out his woes to the mobile hanging over him. Grissom padded over to the bassinet and lifted the baby from it.

"Whoa, there," Grissom said, softly. "What's going on with you, Jacob?" He ran down the list of possible problems. Could be hunger, could be loneliness, could be…

"Oh. Diaper."

Changing a baby was nothing compared to examining a three week-old decomposed body. This wasn't to say it was an entirely pleasant affair, either. But after seeing Sara do it so many times, Grissom felt he pulled it off fairly well. Jacob didn't seem to care either way; he was just happy to be dry. He gave Grissom a gummy smile of appreciation.

Figuring everything was all right now, Grissom lowered Jacob back into his crib, wound up his mobile and started for the door. A fresh round of wailing had him back at Jacob's side in an instant.

"Let's not wake up Mommy, Jacob," he told the little boy. When reasoning with him failed to bring results, Grissom realized this wasn't going to be as easy as a fresh diaper.

* * *

"'…Arizona versus…scent evidence…as expert witness testimony…testing…proving them to be fair…thus the Frye test was…'" 

At first, Sara thought she was having her frightening recurring nightmare in which she was trapped in the DNA lab with Ecklie and a stack of forensic journals. But then she realized she was half-awake and in her own bed.

Her hand instinctively felt for Grissom, but found only empty, cold sheets. Pushing herself up into a sitting position, she was seized with momentary panic. Had he left? Had it all proven to be too much for him, too soon? Sara forced herself to keep breathing, and to not jump to conclusions. He could be in the bathroom. He could have gone out for orange juice. He could be…

"'California versus Ryan Willis held that dog-scent-identification evidence was improperly admitted to the courtroom according to the rules set forth by the Frye and Kelly cases.' What do you think about that, Jacob?"

…reading forensic journals to her son.

Sara belted her robe at her waist and wandered down the hall. At the nursery door, she stopped and peeked in.

Grissom had seated himself in her big rocking chair with Jacob and an old article on the analysis of human scent and its admissibility in court. Sara listened to him read a few more sentences in a low, soothing tone before she stepped inside the room. He looked up and smiled at her. "I found this article fascinating, but it put him right to sleep."

Sara pressed her fingers against her mouth for a long moment. "I thought you'd left."

"It crossed my mind that you might. But Jacob was quite anxious about a wet diaper, and I didn't want to wake you up for something I could take care of. I'm sorry, honey."

"No," she shook her head. "Thank you."

Grissom cleared his throat. "Are we ready to have our serious talk, or should I continue on?"

"I suppose we might as well." Sara sank down onto Jacob's toy chest. "What happens now that we've…?"

Silence descended over the room like a blanket.

He lowered the journal and looked straight at her. "One of us is going to have to start talking."

"I've done enough talking," she whispered. "It's your turn."

Grissom nodded. "All right." After quickly glancing down at the sleeping baby in his arm, he said, "I don't want to be his godfather."

Sara exhaled sharply, like she'd been punched in the stomach. "Oh." She blinked. "Well…I…" She stopped and swore under her breath. When she finally forced herself to look at him, her eyes were wet. "Why?"

He let the journal fall to the floor as he lifted Jacob to his shoulder and stood up. Patting his little back, Grissom walked to the end of the room and turned back around. "The dictionary definition of a godparent is a person who sponsors a child at their baptism. The generally accepted definition is a person who takes on the responsibility of ensuring that a child is raised according to Christian principles and beliefs. Other religions such as Hinduism and Islam…they don't even have the equivalent of a godparent."

"You don't have to give me a linguistics lesson just because you decided not to…"

Grissom went on. "I don't even know who my godparents are. Do you? Know yours?"

Sara bit her lip. "I got birthday and Christmas cards from them up until my father…died. That first year in foster care, I kept expecting them to show up and take me away. Obviously didn't happen."

"Unless you're active in the church, it's an honorary title at best. Something you ask of whoever happens to be your friend at the time, with no guarantees that the person will be a part of your life five, ten years down the line. Much less part of your child's life."

"Are you planning to go somewhere?" she asked, the wobble in the question making it less of a joke than she had intended.

Grissom shook his head. "Sara…I don't want an invisible role in Jacob's life." He inhaled the baby's sweet, powdery scent. "I spent so much of your pregnancy selfishly resenting him for the day he would be born, when you'd stop being my Sara, and become his mother." He paused. "I'd like it if he could forgive me for that someday."

She steepled her hands in front of her mouth. "Gil…"

"But then he was born and…I don't know, Sara. I can't explain what happened when I looked at him for the first time."

"I think I can guess," she whispered.

"I know he's not mine, and he won't ever really be mine. But sometimes I like to look at him and…"

"Pretend he's yours?" Sara's smile trembled. "Want to hear something sad? I picked a sperm donor with blue eyes. Taking my genetics into account, Jacob has a fifty-fifty shot of keeping his current eye color."

Grissom stared at her. "Did you…because of me?"

"Please don't act surprised." She stood up and walked towards him. "You know how I feel about you." Sara reached out and touched her baby's soft head. "Would you think less of me if I said…I had him because I was lonely?"

"I wouldn't. Because I don't think that's the only reason you did."

Sara looked away. "I pretend he's yours, too. That's probably even sadder, right?" She brushed a tear off her cheek. "You haven't ever donated sperm, have you?"

He smiled sadly. "I wish I could say I have."

When she looked back at her, her eyes overpowered the remnants of his emotional walls. "What do you want, Gil?"

Jacob woke with a whimper. Grissom gently rubbed his back until he quieted down and closed his eyes again. For Sara, it was a magical moment with the two people she loved most in the world.

Grissom looked at her. "If I can't be his biological father, I want to be the next best thing. And that's not merely his godfather."

"And…what about me?"

"Well…" The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth. "I figure you and Jacob are a package deal."

"We are." There was a pause. "But we're not uncomplicated, Gil. We're chaotic and unpredictable and, frankly, messy. Are you ready for that?" This time, when she reached out, she stroked her hand down the side of his face. "Are you really ready for us?"

"I'm not going to pretend that I'll be anyone's definition of a perfect parent or a perfect partner," Grissom said. "But I will promise that I'll try to be both." He caught her hand with his free one and kissed her fingers. "I've wasted a lot of years trying not to be in love with you. I'd like to spend a lot more just being with you. Both of you."

It was good to know that all those pennies she'd thrown away into fountains, wishing for this very moment, hadn't been totally squandered.

Sara kissed him, languishing in the comfort of his warm mouth. "Come back to bed."

Grissom nodded. Then he frowned. "Does this mean…what does this mean, honey?"

She gently eased Jacob away from him and after a moment of cuddling her son, she put him back into his crib. "It means Rome wasn't built in a day." She straightened up. "We still have a lot to talk about. Starting with one very important choice we have to make."

"What's that?"

"Nick or Greg?" Sara smirked. "Or can Jacob have two godfathers?"

* * *

To Be Continued 

Author's Notes: Excerpts used in this story came from, "Analysis of the Uniqueness and Persistence of Human Scent.", by Allison M. Curran, Scott I. Rabin, Kenneth G. Furton, Forensic Science Communications, April 2005, Vol. 7, No. 2


	15. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: Enjoy the new chapter! Thanks for all the great reviews, guys.

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"Sara, have you chosen a godparent for your child?" 

Her voice echoed down the length of the stained-glass church. "I have."

"Please have him come forward."

Jim Brass stood up and nervously adjusted his tie. He took a deep breath and joined Sara at the altar.

Sara's smile was radiant as she handed her son to the man she often considered more of a father figure than her own had been to her. Jacob's tiny face was buried in a sea of soft, white cotton. Brass pushed the cap off the baby's head as the minister cupped a handful of water from the font.

"Sara, what name have you given your child?" the minister asked.

Her eyes sought out and locked onto the man sitting in the very first row. "Jacob Gilbert Sidle."

The water was trickled over the baby's head, eliciting a whimper of surprise from him. Like he handled babies every day, Brass gently rocked him as the minister went on. "By the authority vested in me by God and His church, I baptize you Jacob Gilbert Sidle, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen."

Brass passed the baby back to Sara, pulled a card out of his pocket and cleared his throat. "Jacob," he read out loud. "Today we welcome you. May you face all challenges that come to you as a person of integrity. May you continue to bring great joy to your mother, her friends, and to all those who come to know you. May wonder fulfill you and love surround you. May your step be steady and your arm be strong. May your heart be peaceful and your word be true." He paused, and when he went on, his voice was hoarse. "May you seek to learn, may you learn to live, and may you live to love."

The minister made the sign of the cross. "With the help of your mother and the ones she loves and cherishes, may the Lord bless and watch over you, Jacob, as the newest member of His flock."

* * *

"It was a really nice ceremony, Sara." Catherine tickled the underside of Jacob's chin. "And you did very well, sweetheart," she cooed at the baby. "No crying or screaming like a daughter of mine who shall remain nameless." 

"I was worried about the water part," Grissom replied, joining them with a glass of iced tea that Sara had requested. "He absolutely hates to get his head wet at bath time."

Catherine raised her eyebrow as she sipped her own tea. "And how often are you giving him his bath these days?"

Grissom and Sara exchanged a look. "Hold on to your curiosity, Cat," Grissom said with a mysterious smile.

After she'd moved on, even more curious now, Sara swatted Grissom's arm. "What are you doing? What happened to being discreet?"

He looked around the reception room. "There's not a single person here who can't be trusted, Sara. And I, for one, am already tired of living this whole, secret life."

She wet her lips nervously. So was she. But the decision to make their private business a little more public wasn't up to her. If it was, people in Timbuktu would have known days ago that Gil Grissom loved her and wanted to be with her and Jacob.

"Really?" she asked softly.

Grissom tucked a curl behind her ear before getting to his feet. "Excuse me," he called out over the din. Their friends' chatter died down and all eyes turned to him. Clearly a little bit uncomfortable in the spotlight, Grissom stuck his hands in his pockets. "Sara wants to thank all of you for being here today to witness Jacob's baptism. So…you're probably asking yourselves why she isn't telling you this. Well, besides being notoriously shy…" This earned him a few snickers from the people who knew Sara best. "…she's not the only one who's glad you're all here."

A few seconds passed before he started talking again. "It's no secret that I'm not chatty. At least not when it comes to subjects outside of work. So forgive me if I seem a bit rusty at this." Grissom took a breath. "It's probably also no secret that there's a…connection between Sara and myself. Maybe you all have better defined it over the years, but it's taken us a long time to acknowledge it and act upon it."

"Speak for yourself," Sara reminded him in a tone so low no one else could hear it.

"Well," Grissom continued. "We finally have."

"Damn it," Greg cursed. "If he could have held out for another couple of months, I was going to make my move!"

Warrick glanced at him. "What were you waiting for?"

"Man, there's something not cool about hitting on a woman who's still breast-feeding her kid." He sighed. "I guess though…this is the way it's supposed to be. Right?"

"Yeah," Warrick agreed. "It is."

Grissom and Sara were unaware of this conversation; all they could see was surprise, acceptance, even relief on their friends' faces.

Jacob cooed just then and Sara looked down at him, thereby completely unaware of Grissom reaching into his coat pocket for something. "I'm glad you're all here," Grissom continued, "Because I want witnesses." His attention turned to the woman sitting next to him, making faces at her delighted son. "Sara Sidle."

Her head turned just in time to see him crack the little velvet box open, revealing the unmistakable gleam of a diamond. Unblinking, her gaze drifted up to Grissom's face, searching for any sign that this might be a joke.

There was nothing in his expression but hope. "'Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one.' Jane Howard." His words were husky with emotion. "I need one." His eyes pleaded with her. "Will you and Jacob be mine?"

Her curiosity satisfied, Catherine gently eased Jacob out of Sara's limp arms. Not that Sara noticed. She still had yet to even blink.

She rose on shaky knees. "Gil," she whispered. "This isn't a plant."

"I know. But I don't want to act like this didn't happen tomorrow." He lifted the ring from its cushion. "I want you to marry me, Sara. For good. Forever."

"Oh god…"

Grissom's hopeful look clouded over a bit when all she did was repeat herself. "Um…please?"

Finally, Sara broke free of the trance that had settled over her upon first sight of the ring. She blinked and the tears that had been collecting on her lashes cascaded down her cheeks. "Of course I will."

Applause erupted all around them. Nick put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Grissom seemed startled by it, as if he had forgotten that there was anyone else in the world, but Sara merely laughed through her tears. "Really, guys," she said to their friends. "What did you think I was going to say?"

She didn't hear anyone's answers. Grissom reached for her hand and slipped the platinum band onto her finger. Without waiting for him, Sara pressed her lips to his, sealing their engagement with a kiss. She was always amazed at how well they fit together.

Catherine sniffed as she lightly jostled Sara's son against her shoulder. "What a day, Jacob," she told the baby. "God and Gil Grissom are both gonna be looking out for you."

* * *

To Be Continued 


	16. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. 

Author's Notes: To follow.

* * *

The Invisible Man 

by Kristen Elizabeth

* * *

"The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother." - Theodore Hesburgh

* * *

"When did you start loving me?" 

Only hours into their engagement, they found themselves curled up in Sara's bed after Jacob had been put down for the night. They faced each other, their fingers loosely laced as long-buried thoughts were brought to the surface, an emotional purge that they both desperately needed.

Impatient for an answer, Sara went on, "Was it that first day at the seminar?"

"No," he replied, smiling softly. "I was attracted." He reached out and stroked his fingers through her hair. "God, was I attracted. Instantly."

"But not in love?"

"It had always been my experience that love builds and grows. So when I met you…I figured it was only a matter of time." Grissom's brow creased. "I kept you at arm's length. An email buddy. And then a colleague. I tried so hard to keep it that platonic."

Sara rubbed his knuckle with the pad of her index finger. "To keep from loving me?"

He nodded. "But then one day, I came face to face with the reality of what it might be like not to have you in my life at all."

"When I threatened to quit?"

"No."

Sara tried again, "The lab explosion?"

"No."

"My kind-of DUI?" He shook his head and she sighed. "Gil, it's pretty sad that I could just keep going."

"You volunteered yourself to bait the FBI's Strip Strangler." Grissom's fingers tightened around hers. "It occurred to me in that moment that I could lose you. And I loved you." He lifted one shoulder. "It wasn't a gentle realization. It was more like being hit in the head with a two-by-four."

"Maybe…just maybe…it had been building. And you were too busy looking the other way."

"It's a distinct possibility." Grissom took her hand and placed it over his heart. "So…when did you know you loved me?"

"When you glared at me across that seminar hall."

"You were talking during my lecture," he reminded her.

Sara's nose crinkled up. "How many times do we have to go through this? It was the guy next to me; I was merely telling him to shut up."

"The 'guy next to me defense." Grissom chuckled. "If I had a dime for every time I…" He stopped, realizing something. "It doesn't bother you...does it? That it took me longer to figure it all out?"

"No," Sara assured him. "Girls are always a step ahead of boys. Besides..." She strained her neck to kiss him. "It was just your eyes that I fell for that first day. I've been falling in love with pieces of you ever since."

"Pieces?"

Untangling her fingers from his, Sara let her hand creep down his chest and slip under the sheet. "You're a puzzle, Gil. There's probably still a few parts of yourself that you're holding back."

He took her hand again before she could distract him. "There are things I don't know about you, too."

"Like what? Ask me anything. I'm an open book."

Grissom looked down at their hands. "What would you say about me…wanting to adopt Jacob?"

A shiver ran all the way down her spine, visibly shaking her slender body. "Legally?" she whispered.

"Legally. Fully." He paused. "I love him, Sara."

Her eyes were dewy. "There's a lot of that going around."

Grissom inched closer to her. "You don't have to answer now. I'm not going anywhere."

"Good. Because I need a little time to…process all of this." Sara bit her lip. "Getting everything you want in a single day is exhausting."

He opened his arms and she snuggled into them. Closing his eyes, he sighed. "Tell me about it."

* * *

_Five years later_

"Daddy, watch me!"

From the bottom of the slide, Grissom nodded at Jacob. The little boy pushed off and slid down, landing in a pile at his father's feet. He looked up and grinned; there wasn't an inch of him that wasn't covered with sand.

"Oh, your mother is not going to be happy with us, Jake." He picked the little boy up, hanging him upside down in mid-air, much to his delight. "It'll be baths for you; the couch for me."

A moment later, Grissom deposited his giggling load onto the picnic blanket. Sara set down the picture book she was reading to their two year-old daughter, Jessy. "Who is this sand-person you've brought me?" she asked her husband.

"It's me, Mommy! I'm a perfect mess," he proudly announced, repeating something he'd heard many times before.

She couldn't not smile at this. "Oh, I know. You get that from your father." Jessy started squirming on her lap. "Gil, can you…?"

He lifted Jessy out of Sara's lap. "Still working on pushing up that tooth, sweetheart?"

She clung to her father's neck. "Da-da," she whimpered.

Jacob was doing a bit of whining himself as Sara took a wet-nap to his face, attempting to penetrate the layer of sand on his face. She was so focused on her maternal task that she didn't notice something blocking the sunlight until it spoke.

"Sara?"

Squinting, she looked up. But it was Grissom who said, "Hank."

None of the adults seemed to have any idea what to say next. Fortunately Jacob was there to pick up the slack. "Who are you?" he asked the tall, blond man.

"A friend of your mother's," Hank answered the little boy. "And you are…"

"Jacob," Sara answered for her son. "Jacob Grissom."

Jacob blinked his big blue eyes, a near perfect match to his father's, as the man studied him. "You know," Hank eventually said. "You could have just told me the truth back then, Sara. You didn't have to make up the whole artificial insemination thing."

Sara and Grissom exchanged a look. "Are you here alone, Hank?" Grissom asked, side-stepping the issue.

"No." He pointed across the park where a pretty woman waited, one hand on a stroller.

"Congratulations," Sara told him, honestly.

Hank nodded. "Same to you."

When he was gone, Grissom reached for Sara's hand. "Now aren't you glad Jake takes after me?" he asked with a wink.

Her good mood returned. And it lasted until Jacob asked, "Mommy, what's artidicial semilation?"

There would be a lot of questions in their future, some easier than others. But, as Grissom liked to remind his wife, she had wanted inquisitive children.

* * *

Fin

* * *

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone whose enthusiasm for this story has kept me going. Your words have been heard and appreciated very much. I look forward to doing this again soon! 

Another friendly reminder, I am going to be the Featured Author of the Week on YTDAW starting on Monday. I'm ready to answer any and all of your questions!

Again, thank you!


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